Awakened in the Third Age
by Andalus23
Summary: Something went wrong with Naga's spell, the out realm gate didn't send the children to the past of their doomed timeline. instead they emerged, separated, in a strange new land. (Fire emblem crossover with another series)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

**This fic is a non-FE crossover fic, meaning that I'm writing a crossover between Fire emblem and another series. I want you guys to be able to guess which series though, the title mostly gives it away.**

**I didn't post it in the crossover section for this and fire emblem because there's only one other fic in there. How is anybody supposed to read my story if no one knows it exists? **

**Anyways, enjoy.**

**Awakened in the Third Age**

Chapter 1: **Arrival**

Lucina staggered out of the out-realm gate, falling on her knees. She felt nauseous, traveling through time coupled with the constant malnutrition she endured in her doomed world certainly took its toll on her physically. She slowly got up to her feet, wobbling a bit from dizziness. Her head was pounding, and her vision was blurred, but she tried to shake her head clear of it. A loud crash from behind her made her jump and sent her forwards onto her knees once more. She turned around and noticed the doors of the out-realm gate had slammed shut and was now starting to fade away. There was no going back now it seemed, her mission was now set in stone. She rose up once again, this time with more confidence. Her vision cleared, as well as her mind. She took the time to survey her surroundings and gasped at the wondrous sight that sent chills down her very spine.

Many trees with their many coloured leaves swaying gently in the light breeze. Soft, short grass covered the forest floor along with fallen autumn leaves, glowing in the sunlight that peeked out from the canopies of the trees. She could even hear birds singing many melodious tunes as they called out to their kin.

'So, this is the past,' she thought, mouth still agape. She'd never seen a forest so _alive _before. Her future was filled with dead forests and burned grasslands. She only remembered hearing birds when she was a young girl, before the world had ended. She walked slowly through the forest, admiring the beauty around her. It still astounded her that her land had so much natural beauty to it. It was no wonder Her father had fought so hard to protect it. Her thoughts turned ill as she remembered what would eventually come to the serene forests and grasslands of Ylisse.

'Not this time,' determination was set on her face, she'd find her father, she'd save everyone, she would stop Grima! A sudden realization came to her then, she had no idea where she was or if she was even _in _Ylisse. There wasn't going to be much saving if she couldn't get her bearings.

Farther and farther she walked in the forest until she came across a wide dirt road that cut through it, 'Perfect' she thought. This road would most likely lead to some town, then she could figure out what land she was in, and where the next major settlement was.

She walked along the road for what seemed like hours, it was weird how quiet the road was, she hadn't seen a single person this entire time. Not even any soldiers patrolling the lands. Had she traveled back to the right point in time? Naga had told them this timeline was a little before her aunt Emmeryn was assassinated, a plot that would scar her father more than just physically for the rest of his life. Perhaps there was a war going on, so all the soldiers were on the front lines. If that was the case, she needed to make haste. She quickened her pace as she strode along the road with long strides, arm at her sword.

Suddenly, there was a ruffle in the brush beside her. Lucina instantly swiveled towards it. It could have been an animal, but she felt it was not a terrible thing to be cautious. Her arm was at the hilt of her sword, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

Then, a large figure calmly walked out of the brush and stood some distance up the road, and 'large' was an understatement. This man was well built and incredibly tall, probably almost seven feet in height she guessed. He carried a longsword at his side, which looked to be high quality too, castle forged steel she was certain of. A gruff face with hardened features stared daggers at her, appearing to be sizing her up. He had a real raggedy look to him; a grey cloak hung about his shoulders, his hood drawn over his dark hair, and his brown tunic and simple mail underneath hung loosely on his form. His other clothes consisting of similar earthy tones. All suggesting that this behemoth of a man was some highway bandit. Oddly, the man brandished a cloak clasp in the shape of a silver pointed star with eight points. A quick glance at the others who sat amongst the bushes showed they brandished this symbol as well. Lucina knew not of any noble house in the Halidom of Ylisse with this sigil, she started to wonder if maybe she'd arrived in Valm instead. Lucina also noticed some men in the foliage, his comrades most likely. Lucina widened her base and stared at the man, careful not to draw her sword just yet.

"Who are you?" the man said, his voice was booming and seemed to command authority. Lucina stood her ground however. She was in no way intimidated, she'd faced beasts far larger than him.

"I am just a simple traveler," she replied.

"From where?" he questioned quickly. Lucina considered her words carefully for a moment. Should she tell him she was from Ylisse? Her blue hair and sword certainly were trademarks of Ylissean royalty, she didn't want them to be able to connect the dots and possibly expose her. And it was also possible that these bandits were some of the Plegian raiders that had started the Plegian-Ylissean conflict during her Aunt's rule. Exposing her lineage to them would make her a high value target, and she needed to keep a low profile.

Then again, Lucina doubted these potential bandits had the wits to figure any of that out so easily.

"The Halidom of Ylisse," she said with confidence.

The man paused, quietly observing her. He seemed to be pondering over something. Lucina could only guess that he was deciding on fighting her or not. Then the man said something that completely threw her off.

"I know of no such place, nor would I believe it is anywhere near here." Lucina's eyes narrowed behind her mask. This was strange, how did he not know of Ylisse? Even if she was on Valm, the legendary homeland to the descendants of the Hero-King Marth was known throughout every corner of the world. The way this man spoke also showed that he wasn't some simple peasant. He could also just be lying…

"It's probably far from here,"

"Indeed? And what business would a 'simple traveler from Ylisse' have with the little folk so armed?"

She raised an eyebrow, she could only guess that little folk meant peasentery. In which case she wondered why this bandit would question her on them. It annoyed her greatly that this ruffian would question her intentions. Lucina wanted to dispose of this man quickly and be on her way.

"No business, I'm looking to head to Yllisstol, capital city of Ylisse, I seemed to have gotten lost along the way."

"So, it seems," the man said quietly, his hand was moving ever so slightly towards the hilt of his sword, and Lucina's grip tightened around hers.

"There have been a number of unsavory characters wandering these lands as of late," his voice was low, and his hand was now firm around the hilt of his sword. Lucina knew there was going to be a fight, it was just a matter of who would draw first.

"Indeed, men such as yourselves!" she proclaimed, and almost in unison they both drew their blades. Lucina rushed the tall man, quickly closing the distance between him, the man took a defensive stand against her, his sword pointed out in a low guard. Lucina swung her sword in an upwards arc from low, clashing with the Bandit's sword as he deflected. She then brought her sword high and started slashing in a downwards arc but feinted her attack midway and thrusted the tip forward, but the man dodged her sword point.

Lucina slashed and stabbed, whilst the man expertly parried every blow. Lucina noted how uncharacteristically skilled this man was for a bandit, even if she was extremely weathered down from many factors, she was still quite the formidable swordswoman.

Lucina continued to pressure him, making sure to keep the man on the defensive. The difference in height made it easy for Lucina to keep the man occupied, she kept her attacks low so that he would have to extend his reach to block, then she would strike high to throw him off. If it weren't for the skill of this bandit, she would have easily taken him down already.

Finally, the man went on the offensive, and Lucina had to brace herself from the sheer strength of each strike. The man swung his sword high and slashed downwards with all his strength. Lucina knew she could not deflect that, so she leapt out of the way using her superior speed. She then thrusted inwards while the man's guard was down, but she over extended herself, and the man was able to narrowly dodge it. He then slammed his shoulder into her and Lucina was hurled sideways onto the ground, a good distance away. She stumbled onto her feet and held her sword out in front of her. She was panting hard from exertion, whilst the man seemed relatively unfazed. Then, two more men in similar dress walked out of the bushes and stood next to her adversary. They too had quite the height to them, but not as much as the tall tower of a man she was fighting. She also noticed a few archers crouched in the bushes beside her that had drawn their bows and were aiming them at her.

Lucina cursed, this was a tough situation she was in, she could rush the three swordsmen, and get a back full of arrows, or she could flee but suffer the same result. Now there was only one option left, she had to surrender, then while they were distracted, she would flee. Lucina lowered the tip of her blade to the floor; her enemies kept their guard up.

"I yield," she calmly stated, "You can have any valuables I possess, but there isn't anything of worth." Lucina watched with curiosity as the three men looked at each other, confusion clear on their faces.

Just as they were about to respond, a horseman ripped through the bushes. His was dressed the same as the others, but his face was ridden with fear, and he was panting heavily.

"Black riders!" he cried, "They crossed the ford last evening, we couldn't hold them off," the horseman seemed panicked, and his voice was shaky.

The tallest man's eyebrows furrowed, "Go north," he said to the horseman, "Rally the others, and make haste! We'll be waiting at the Ford!" The rider then sped off down the road.

"What of the boy?" one of the Bandits asked.

"Our fellows are near, he won't get far," the tall man replied. He then turned to his companions, "Men! With me to the ford!" he cried, and they all rushed off into the forest in the direction the horseman came from.. Lucina was now left alone on the road.

_'Well, that all solved itself out nicely,'_ she thought. Lucina wondered who these 'black riders' were. She figured that they could have been an elite group of soldiers, like the shepherds. In that case, they must have had some amazing capabilities if they were able to scramble the likes of the men she just faced. She sheathed her sword, standing firm as a victor on the battlefield, and awaited these black riders. Perhaps now she could get some answers about what kingdom she happened to be in. And if it came to it, she would gladly lend them her sword in defeating those bandits.

She waited for a bit, but there was no sign of anything. So she decided to continue walking down the road in the direction she decided was north. As she walked, Lucina listened closely for the marching of soldiers, or the trotting of horses, but there was…nothing. Not even the sounds of birds or insects. The forest became eerily quiet, there were no sounds except for the crunching of leaves beneath her feet. Lucina couldn't help but be reminded of the terrifying quietness of the dead wilderness in her ruined future, and she started to feel an uneasiness creep into her. She stopped, and turned to face what she guessed was south, staring down the road. A chilling breeze swept past her and seemingly stripped away all the confidence she bore, leaving only a harrowing sense of dread that grew in her stomach every second. Her instincts screamed at her to run into the wilderness. She turned around and was about to sprint into the trees, but then, she heard it.

_clop….clop….clop_

The slow, steady pattering of a horse's hooves came from behind her. Her body whipped back around to see a lone rider a good distance away, covered in long, black robes, and sat hunched atop a black horse. A hood covered the rider's head, so she couldn't make out the face underneath. Her eyes drifted to a wicked sword strapped to it's side. She wanted to run, but she couldn't. Her trembling hand moved slowly to her sword, but she could not muster the strength to draw it. She stood only in muted terror as the rider came closer, and closer.

At last, the rider halted its horse a few feet away from where Lucina was frozen in fear. The Rider's head swiveled to look directly at her, and Lucina felt all her breath escape her lungs as she stared back at an empty abyss. For underneath that hood there was no head, only darkness. No eyes caught the glint of the sunlight. But she felt it's piercing gaze nonetheless.

The black horse huffed, and the rider continued down the road, ignoring her completely. Lucina continued to stare wide eyed off into where the rider had been. Her lungs burned for air, but she could not breathe. It wasn't until she could no longer hear the trotting of the horse that she was able to take in a deep breath, and she dropped to her knees.

Her breaths became fast, and her heart was pounding in her ears. No thoughts came as her mind was clouded by the terror of what she had just witnessed. The corners of her vision started to grow dark, until at last she fell forward onto her stomach, and plunged into a nightmare filled slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

**Yeah, real bad idea to start this story in the middle of exam season. **

**I will be taking some creative liberties in regards to some of the established lore. I will also be adding some original characters where there is a need for one in order to make a coherent and interesting plot. **

Chapter 2: **Hyarmentir**

**Six months before Lucina's arrival**

Severa trudged through the hot sands of the arid desert. The relentless sun beat harshly down her back, making her clothes drenched in her own sweat.

'_Sweating, I'm SWEATING, UGHH."_

She came to the top of a sand dune and stopped for a moment to wipe her forehead from moisture. Looking out on the seemingly endless desert that stretched beyond to horizon, she sighed heavily. She wondered to herself why, out of all the places she could have emerged in, it just _had_ to be Plegia. And to make things worse….

"You know Severa, walking in this Plegian heat isn't the only thing that takes my breath away," came Inigo's voice

'_I'm paired with this fool'_

Inigo chuckled, "What, no reply?" he said while panting, "I thought that one was quite charming, wouldn't you say?"

"You're an idiot," Severa said, she pulled up the straps of her traveling sack and continued to walk down the sand dune, Inigo followed close behind.

"Ah! Her melodious voice rings out at last!" He cheered, "Now if I can just get a smile, I can die happy,"

Severa stopped and turned to face her aggravating companion, "You can die quickly if you don't shut up! Now stop wasting your breath!" she scorned. Severas ears were met with Inigo's gaudy laughter

"My Darling Severa, being so _cold_ isn't going to help with the heat you know." Severa clenched her teeth tightly, she wanted to smack Inigo over the head right then and there, but she chose to ignore him.

The two continued their journey across the scorching desert for a while in relative silence, much to the pleasure of Severa. She figured that Inigo had simply become too tired to try and flirt with her, she herself felt her strength waning with each step. The sun was too hot, the land was too dry, and the wind was starting to pick up, blowing sand in her face and eyes.

They reached the top of what seemed like their hundredth sand dune they had climbed that day, and Severa felt it was time for a quick break. She looked to see Inigo already doubled over, taking long deep breaths. Severa reached for her waterskin, she tilted it upwards expecting to be graced by the flow of water to quench her ever present thirst, but nothing came.

'_Oh..no!'_

She tossed her waterskin to the ground and fell to her knees, head hung low. Severa didn't know how long she could keep going. Her throat was as dry as the lands she walked. and with no water in sight it was looking like they were going to die of thirst out here in the Plegian border wastes.

"H-here, I've still got a few drops left," came Inigo's hoarse voice as he handed her his water skin. Severa snatched it with eager hands and quickly guzzled down the small bit of warm water. She looked back at Inigo as he stared longingly at the now empty water-skin and she felt a pang of guilt.

"You should have kept that for yourself," she said

Inigo gave her a tired smile, "It's all right, you looked like you could have used it more,"

She scoffed at that. It was hard seeing anything Inigo did as genuine, it could just be another poor attempt at wooing her, she thought.

They continued to sit in silence on the top of that sand dune, neither had the strength to continue walking. Inigo lay on his stomach taking slow, long breaths, while Severa stared blankly into the distance. Severa supposed that this was the end for them. Ironic though it was, they had just escaped certain death only to face it immediately after. Perhaps there was no changing fate.

Severa was ready to fall forward onto her face and await death, but then, something caught her eye. A small glistening in the distance. Her eyes widened once she realized what it was.

Water! She was sure of it! Even if it was a mirage, Severa wasn't going to pass it up. She mustered all the strength she could to rise to her feet, albeit a bit wobbly. She took one hard step forward,

_thunk! _Came the sound of her footsteps in her ears. Her legs felt they weighed as much as Grima himself, but she kept on, step after step.

"W-where are you…..going?" said Inigo, panting and out of breath.

"Water!" her voice was hoarse and barely audible, but Inigo seemed to understand, she could hear him scuffling in the sand behind her.

Closer and closer she came to the glistening in the distance. With every step taken, her hope for survival was growing. She could even see some vegetation! A sudden rush of adrenaline overcame her and her legs started to pick up speed until she found herself running towards the pool of hope, her last chance of survival. She felt nothing, not the wind in her face, not the sand blowing against her exposed skin, she could only see water.

At last! Her feet reached the edge of the oasis. She stood for some time, admiring the sight. Crisp, blue water filled a deep pool before her, great palm trees surrounded the water bed. In that moment, a sense of euphoria washed over her. A smile broke out onto her face as she took a sigh of relief. She was content, she was happy, she was tired, so very, very tired. So tired in fact that her legs buckled beneath her and she found herself falling face first into the pond.

Severa let herself sink, for even if she knew how to swim, she didn't have the strength left to save herself.

Something then tugged unto her collar and she felt herself being forcefully pulled upwards and out of the water. Severa lay flat on her stomach, violently coughing up water from her lungs. She pushed herself onto her knees, moving wet hair strung across her face to see,

"Inigo?"

He smiled and gave out a weak laugh, "It's not wise to swim while dehydrated,"

She shrugged him off, "W-whatever."

She slumped down beside the water and cupped the cool liquid into her hands and guzzled down as much water as she could. She felt the fog slowly rolling back from her mind with each sip she took. Severa sat back, feeling refreshed from the much-needed hydration. She looked towards Ingio, who was slowly sipping water from the pond. '_That dastard'_ she thought, '_why'd he have to go and do something like that now i have to THANK him! UGH!' _She sighed, as much as it displeased her, she guessed she owed it to Inigo to show her gratitude..

"Thanks," she said in a small voice.

"Hmm? For what?" He asked

"For, you know, saving me or whatever," she mumbled.

Inigo laughed, "Could it be? Severa showing _manners_!? Please drink more water, you're clearly not in the right state of mind,"

She shoved him aside, her cheeks a tinge of pink. "Don't get used to it," she said. She stood up and dusted herself off from the sand that stuck to her wet clothes. She certainly felt a lot more refreshed, but there was still an issue of the lands they were in. It was going to be extremely difficult to escape now without mounts or much food, she also didn't know which direction to head in.

"Inigo," she said, "We need to get moving, now."

He scoffed, "On foot? We'd be dead before the day's end, Let's just wait here, I'm sure this is a popular stop for travelers,"

"Or soldiers," she retorted. "Besides, what good will that do for us? I don't think any would just have spare horses to give to us," She said. Inigo was right though, without mounts they wouldn't be able to make it far in this desert.

"Maybe we can ask him," Inigo said pointing behind her. She turned and saw a swarthy skinned old man on the far side of the oasis, who tended to a multitude of camels along with a few horses. He wore long red and black robes, His age was clear on his face but his body seemed strong. Inigo stood up and wiped sand from his clothes.

"Come Severa, Let's see if this man can spare us a horse or two."

"What, you think he's just going to give his horses to complete strangers? Don't be so daft" Inigo chuckled at that.

"Fear not Severa, with a bit of tact, and a great deal of charm, I'm sure we can persuade him. Which is why I'll do the talking."

Severa scoffed, "And just what exactly are you going to do? Try and _woo_ him?"

"I shall do no such thing!" he immediately replied, his voice showing a hint of offense. Severa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Just..don't say anything stupid, alright?" Inigo nodded in understanding.

As he walked towards the man Severa grabbed his shoulder to stop him, "Wait," she said. Inigo turned to look at her.

"Don't use our real names." Lucina had warned them before entering the outrealm gate about the dangers of interfering with the timeline too much. She had advised everyone to use false names, especially when in the company of their parents. She had said that if they were to reveal themselves as their future children, then they might not be born in this timeline. In truth, Severa cared not. However, while she was in foriegn and hostile lands, it was best that the name she gives couldn't be traced back to her.

Inigo smiled, " I see, Just as Lucina had advised. I didn't think you'd actually listen to her instructions. After all, you're known to be quite...difficult"

"I never asked for your pitiful judgment, just do what I say!"

Inigo frowned and continued walking, mumbling something about her attitude not matching her pretty face. She truly cursed her misfortune to be paired with such a man as aggravating as Inigo.

Severa followed him as he approached the man, putting on the friendliest smile he could muster, "Excuse me, sir! My name is..uh.. Laslow, and this is my traveling companion…..Selena,"

Severa huffed. '_Selena? Really!?'_

"You've got quite the amount of horses in your possession, do you breed them yourself?" He asked.

The man didn't answer. There was an awkward pause as Inigo expected him to respond, but he only stared blankly at the two. Severa started to become anxious, was this man suspicious of them?

"Uhm, okay. Well, you see, we lost our horses, and we were wondering if you'd be so kind as to sell us one of yours? I assure you we'd pay any price you set."

No response.

"What are you daft? We asked you a question!" Severa shouted. She felt inigo's hand clasp her shoulder,

"Now Selena, there is no need to be rude to this kind man. Whom I assume is very much willing to sell us a horse,"

"Two horses, there's no way I'm sitting on the same saddle as you!"

"Selena my dear! This is hardly the time to argue,"

She turned towards Inigo, poking him in the chest, "Don't think I don't know what you're up to!"

Then the Shepherd interrupted them, speaking in a harsh tongue. Inigo and Severa looked at each other, then back at the man.

"…What?" said Inigo.

The man began shouting at them once more in this strange harsh language that Severa knew for a fact was not Plegian. She heard the Shepherd snarl and he began whacking Inigo with his walking stick

"Ow! Hey, what was tha- OW! HEY!"

Inigo fled and hid behind Severa, who had her hand on the hilt of her sword ready to draw. The man had stopped attacking and opted to instead wave his stick about erratically whilst shouting in his language. Severa narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on her sword. "Back!" She cried, "Don't come any closer!" But the man did not heed her warning and started to approach again while swinging his stick at her. Severa then drew to blade. She intercepted his swing with her sword, completely cutting the wood in two. She watched with satisfaction as the old man's demeanor completely changed, he now looked at her wide eyed, his other half of his walking stick plunged to the sand.

Inigo grabbed her sword arm and pulled her back, "No Severa, stop!" he pleaded.

She glared back at him. "Inigo, this man is clearly insane, let's just take two horses and leave him some gold."

"That would still be stealing, Severa. What if he tells someone with authority that two _armed_ Ylisseans stole his horses? We'd start a war!"

Severa _'tsk'd_' and sheathed her sword. "So then what do we do?" she asked, her annoyance clear in her voice

Inigo reached into his traveling sack and pulled out a small bag of various coins. "I think I can get him to understand us." Ingio took out a few from the sack and presented them to the man. The Shepherd snatched the coins and closely inspected them.

Inigo then shook the bag of coins, pointed at the horses, then held up two fingers. The Shepherd looked at the horses, and then towards them. He nodded in understanding. The Shepherd hurried back to his flock and pulled out two steeds. He waved at Inigo to come to him.

Inigo shrugged his shoulders and gave Severa a very smug look as he walked over to the man. Severa crossed her arms and followed behind.

The Shepherd outstretched his hand, and Inigo placed his entire bag of coins in his palm. The man then handed over the reigns to two horses to Inigo though he looked somewhat unnerved.

"Quite generous, aren't you?" said Severa sarcastically.

"He's giving us two of his own horses. Also, you did ruin his walking stick." Severa rolled her eyes at that. "Besides, you still have gold, right?" he asked

"Not for _you_."

Inigo smirked, "Well, one of these horses is for you, so you could pay me for it or you can walk. Your choice,"

She groaned and pulled out some gold and silver coins to give to him. He looked down at the amount and frowned, "I think I deserve more."

"I'll pay you more when I need to, let's just get out of here," she said. They both mounted their steeds and rode away. Inigo turned waved back at the man.

"I thank you, good sir!" He called out. The man continued to stare blankly at them once more. "I don't think he understood me."

They rode for a long while, following tracks made by the Shepherds flock, She'd figured he had to have come from some settlement. Severa would stop occasionally to survey the area for anyone that might see them. She hoped they didn't come across any soldiers, their presence no doubt raise unwanted suspicion. Severa remembered her mother telling her of the rule of King Gangrel, and the uneasy tensions that existed between the two nations, any small incident would have caused a conflict in those times. So, it was of utmost importance that they made it across the border soon.

It was some time later, while the sun was setting, that they stopped before some palm trees and dismounted. They tied their horses to the trees and settled down under them. A small fire brimmed between them, fueled by twigs from shrubs, and dead weeds. Severa shivered and huddled closer to the flames, It wasn't much, but any warmth was welcome for the desert night.

"It would be best if we huddle together for warmth, this fire isn't going to do much," Inigo suggested with a smile.

"Don't even _think_ about coming any closer, you swine!" She sneered. Inigo laughed as he laid himself beside the fire, staring at the stars above. Severa quietly stared into the flames, watching them flicker and dance.

"You know Severa, I was thinking-"

"If this is another one of your poor attempts at flirting then I don't want to hear it."

He chuckled, "No, no, don't worry, nothing like that."

"Then?"

Inigo turned his head back upwards, "I was just thinking about how different the past is, It's...more peaceful."

"It's not peaceful at all, don't you remember how many wars happened during these times?" Severa interrupted.

Inigo frowned, "Yes yes I knew that. But I meant that there's no sign of Grima anywhere to be seen! No Risen have attacked us all day, his giant form isn't looming around the sky. No dark clouds covering the bright sun for months, I'd say this is quite peaceful."

Severa sighed, she supposed he had a point. The past was definitely different. Severa sat staring into the flames as she twirled her locks with her fingers. She mused over the future, the darkness that had assailed her world continued to linger on in her heart. She remembered all the death and bloodshed. She remembered the fear and hopelessness of everyone around her. She remembered her parents leaving one day and never coming back. Severa pulled her knees to her chin and balled her hands into fists. Such evil days they were, and they were the days she would never forget.

"Severa?" came inigo's concerned voice. Severa was then broken from her trance. "Are you all right, you seemed troubled,"

"It's nothing, just sit there and stare at the sky."

Inigo smiled at her as he rose to a sitting position.

"You're thinking of the future, aren't you?" He said. Severa was silent. "Well, I guess I'll take your silence as a yes. Try not to think about it too much, after all, things are going to be different now that we are here." He gave her an earnest smile. For some reason, it made her feel just a tiny bit better.

"Just lay back and watch the stars twinkle above us, it's quite calming I'd say. Especially these stars. They are different tonight." he told her.

Severa gave him a puzzled look, "What? The stars are the same every night what are you talking about?" Her eyes widened when she looked up to see a foreign sky. A full moon shone bright and high, but the moon itself looked different. Many stars were arrayed in patterns that Severa did not recognize. And she knew greatly of the worlds constellations. It was after all a favourite activity of hers to gaze at the night sky with her father, back when he still lived. She remembered how they used to stay up late into the night while her father pointed out the various constellations to her; of which none appeared now.

"Th-this is impossible, stars don't change!" she stuttered.

"Hmm? Perhaps it's because we are in Plegia that it might seem different." Inigo said indifferently.

"I've been to Plegia and the stars were the same, Inigo,"

He waved his hand dismissively, "We're probably tired, we did have quite the arduous journey today. Perhaps we just need some rest, that's all." he told her. He was probably right, the days events were quite exhaustive and she was starting to feel like she could pass out at any moment.

Severa lay down on her side, using her traveling bag as a pillow, and tried to drift off to sleep. It was a quiet night, no wind added any chill. No insects or animals called out. In truth, it made her anxious, it reminded her of the future. She half expected blood curdling screams from a risen ambush to rouse her from rest. But she knew that wasn't likely, she knew that this was not her future. Things were going to be different now, they were going to be better, this timeline would never have to know the terror that Grima would unleash.

She hoped.

* * *

**Inigo**

That night, Inigo had dreamt he was lounging upon a large field of short and soft green grass. The sun peeked out occasionally from the white clouds that were scattered in the afternoon sky. A light and cool breeze swept past him on a warm summer day. A small but gratifying picnic was laid out before him. To his right, a fair maiden laid beside, feeding him small fruits. "This is a dream," Inigo said, "But a welcome one,"

He looked upon the face of the fair maiden beside him, who smiled at him.

"My love, might I ask you a question?" she asked sweetly. She then rose to stand above him.

Inigo smiled back, "Certainly my darling, what ever would you ask of me?" The girl turned away from him, staring off into the distance. Inigo could hear quiet sobs from her. He got up to console her.

"My lady, what troubles you?" He asked, placing his arm around her shoulders. She turned to him, tears streaming down her face.

"Inigo," she sobbed, "Will you stay with me forever?"

"Of course, I am yours and you are mine, what makes you ask this?" He was lying of course; he would stay only until the next beautiful maiden caught his eye. She threw his arms off her and backed away as she stared into his eyes. Her face changed and she looked at him seductively and in that moment, she became the most beautiful maiden that Inigo had ever laid eyes on.

"Then come with me, sweet Inigo, _follow what you desire_,"

A black fog had now formed around them blotting out the bright sun. The maiden backed away into the mist while gesturing for Inigo to follow her. There was a shout from behind him, and Inigo looked back to see his friends, surrounded by Risen and being cut down one by one. "Help us Inigo!" they called, but he was heedless. The maiden then came back and placed both hands upon his face, turning them towards her.

_"Follow what you desire!"_

And so, he did, Inigo forgot all about his friends, and his mission, and followed the maiden into the mist. But the Maiden soon faded away into nothingness and Inigo was left standing alone. He looked up to see dark clouds blocked the sun. He looked down and saw the grass beneath his feet had been burned. He looked east and saw tall black mountains, but there was something that rose above them. The mountains started moving closer and closer to him until Inigo stood right before their slopes. A great tower rose then beyond the peaks, and at the very top a great eye, lidless, breathed in flame. It peered into his soul and he felt his body being burned by its horrible gaze.

He turned away and looked south. From the black fog were six glowing red lights. They grew brighter and larger. Inigo realised that the lights were actually eyes. They stared at him and a great and terrible laugh echoed from the darkness. A familiar fear coursed through him.

He felt a sharp pain in his ribs and dropped down to his knees. The ground beneath him started to quake and break asunder. Inigo let out a terrible cry as he fell and was consumed by the darkness of the world.

But that was not the end it seemed. From the darkness, a familiar voice called out to him, "Inigo," it had said, but he couldn't remember whose it was. "Inigo wake up."

He felt a sharp pain in his ribs once more.

"Inigo you slug! Wake up!"

His eyes fluttered open. He squinted from the bright morning sun. He looked to see Severa standing over him. She seemed panicked.

"Hrngh, Severa?" he questioned in a sleepy voice. "I was ... having the most interesting dream," She then kicked him in the ribs.

"Get up you idiot there are people coming!"

Inigo looked to where Severa pointed back in the direction of the oasis. There he saw seven men on horseback riding towards them. Inigo immediately jumped to his feet, forgetting all about his dream.

Six were wearing red and black robes with red cloth wrapped around their helms and under their chins, which flowed down to cover their shoulders. They wore simple leather chest and shoulder guards, though strangely not in the style of any Plegian soldier Inigio had seen. Five long sticks jutted outwards from their backs, and across the top they were wrapped together in red cloth.

Another sixth rider rode in the center, he wore an extravagant, long sleeved, yellow tunic that appeared to be made from silk. A white surcoat hung off his shoulders. On his head was a golden nasal helm with a silver serpent engraved into the front. They were all armed with curved swords and round shields. Inigo knew these were not just some armed travelers or brigands. They were soldiers, and they rode with purpose. He also noticed one was carrying a long spear from which a flag was waving. A black serpent upon a red field. Inigo narrowed his eyes, he didn't know much about plegia, but he was almost certain those weren't any standards that Gangrel flew for his armies. Nor were these any clothing styles that Plegians would wear.

"Those aren't Plegian banners, there's no mark of the Grimleal" Inigo noted.

"Thank you for you're incredibly obvious observation, Inigo." Severa said sarcastically. She shoved Inigo's sword into his arms. "I hope you're ready for a fight,"

"Nonsense Severa, there will be no fight as long as we use diplomacy. Allow me to talk these men away,"

"These aren't some bumbling damsels that you can swoon with your cowpile of trite flattery! Use your head for once Inigo and think about how we look to them. Two Ylisseans that are armed just so happen to be riding through their lands, especially when tensions are so high. There's no way these soldiers are here for diplomacy."

Inigo furrowed his eyebrows and he stared at his sword. He felt a deep pit forming in his stomach now. He had never killed anyone before, anyone _living_, that is. Severa must have noticed his worrying look as she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him in aggressively.

"Focus, Inigo! It's our lives or theirs! We have a mission to do, remember?" She was right. He did not come all this way just to die from Gangrel's men. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, but that did little to ease his anxiety.

The riders finally halted about forty yards from Severa and Inigo. They stared at them both with great scrutiny. The rider in the center, the one who wore the extravagant clothing, rode a bit forward until he was within earshot. A bitter scowl was on his bearded face. He then opened his mouth to speak, shouting in the same harsh tongue as the man yesterday. Inigo pondered for a moment; it seemed the old shepherd did not speak in the meaningless tongue of a crazed man but was instead a real language. This was all very odd to him, their banners, their speaking, their clothes. There was nothing to suggest that these men were Plegians.

"I'm sorry, we don't understand." Severa said. In response the soldiers all sneered and shouted in their language. Inigo grimaced at the clear tone of hatred behind their words.

One of the soldiers then rode forward, "I shall speak in your horrid tongue on behalf of my master. He says, those are his horses," the soldier called out in a heavily accented voice. He then pointed towards the horses the two had with them. Inigo looked back at his steeds, a bit confused. They had just bought these horses yesterday, why would they be claiming them?

"Why would they be his horses?" Inigo replied.

"Because they are on his land! And the two of you are trespassing as well as thieving."

"We promise you that these horses were bought fairly, and that the man we bought them from was paid handsomely." Inigo said

The Soldier turned towards his master to translate. The Master then growled and spat out more harsh words.

"He says you are a great liar, and he will fight you because you are a liar,"

Inigo sighed, it was now clear to him just what kind of men they were dealing with. Inigo doubted that they actually cared about the horses, they simply see two foreigners and wished to cause trouble. "I see that they are not open for diplomacy," Inigo whispered to Severa.

Severa huffed from beside him, "Told you so."

Inigo sighed and shouted out to the translator, "Please sir, we wish not to fight."

"Then you must give him the horses," the translator said.

Inigo's brows furrowed. '_These guys can't be serious'_

It was indeed ill luck he thought, to be met with some of the more contemptible Plegian soldiers. He wondered if these men were some of Gangrel's personal guard, seeing as they were just as unjust as he. But Inigo would not falter, he spent his very own gold to buy these horses fairly. Surely they must have met with that old man on the way here. Had he lied to them and said they had stolen these horses?

"We shall not give you these horses. Without them we will die in the desert," Inigo said.

"That is the price to pay for thievery!"

"For the last time, we didn't steal these horses!" Severa yelled back.

"Then defend your honour and your lives!" The man shouted a word back to his companions. The piercing sound of steel scraping against their scabbards rang clear as they drew their swords. He squinted at the bright glare of the sun on their scimitars. A pit formed in Inigo's stomach. He had never seriously fought another living person before.

He swallowed dry. His throat was parched. His quivering hand reached for the hilt of his sword and he slowly slid the steel from its sheath. The sword felt heavy in his arms. His breaths were slow and long as he tried to calm himself. Seven on horseback against two on foot. Even if Severa and his skills with the blade were far above the average, the odds were still clearly stacked against them.

"Inigo!" came Severa's angry voice. He turned to see her seated in the saddle of her horse, sword in hand. "Get on your horse you dunce!"

_'Oh, right!'_ He rushed to his steed and quickly climbed it. He gave Severa a sheepish smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Idiot," he heard Severa mutter under her breath. The two of them turned to face their adversaries, swords ready in their hands. Inigo was feeling a bit more confident now,his skills in horsemanship were nothing to be taken lightly. He after all, was trained by his father, the greatest knight in all of Ylisse. He ran a hand through his brown hair as he observed the soldiers, who had arrayed themselves in a line. Their horses neighed and stirred, eager to charge.

"Any plans Severa? You are the daughter of a great tactician," Inigo said. She quickly swiveled her head to glare daggers at Inigo.

"Just because my father was some super special strategy genius doesn't mean I am! Don't assume things about me!" She hissed.

Inigo was a little taken aback by this. '_Seems I've struck a chord.'_ He opened his mouth to respond to her but stopped once he heard the battle cries of their adversaries. They now had begun to move forward into a swift gallop.

Severa then spoke suddenly, "Alright listen, Ride left towards the outside of their line when I say, I will be going right. After you pass, come back around and ride towards their rear. We will catch them off guard this way,"

Inigo smiled, "At once, Miss Grand Tactician!" Inigo chuckled a bit when he saw her give him a sidelong glare. The two stay still watching the riders approach. Closer and closer they got until they were about a stone's throw away.

"Now!" shouted Severa and they both spurred their horses into action. Inigo's horse sprinted left and he readied his sword to strike. He came towards the outermost rider and he was now well within reach of his sword. The rider swung at him, but Inigo ducked low and swiped across the riders side. He heard him cry in pain as Inigo blew past him.

Without stopping Inigo had arced his steed around and now drove forward towards their flanks. Severa had done the same. Just as she said, they were too distracted by turning their horses around to counter them, catching them off guard. The two then rode through gaps in their line, Inigo swung at the neck of a rider, over his shield. Red blood sprayed out and the rider slumped off his horse. Inigo grimaced as he rode away. It truly sickened him to be fighting living men, but as Severa said it was their lives or his.

"Again!" cried Severa and without missing a beat the two were once again charging the soldiers, who sat in a confused state trying to coordinate another line. The two rode through their line again, and two more soldiers had fallen. Five now remained, and one was badly wounded. They seemed to realise coordination was futile as they then split up to chase the two.

Inigo peeked over his shoulder and saw three pursuers, one being the leader in yellow. He looked to see Severa being chased by two others. He quickly arced and rode for the leader, his sword pointed out front. The leader seemed more prepared than the others as he was able to parry Inigo's sword and swung for his neck. Inigo's eyes widened and he forcibly leaned away from his scimitar. Inigo gasped as he felt himself slipping from the saddle. He tried to pull in his horse's reins, but it kept moving forward. Finally, Inigo lost his grip and tumbled into the sand. He quickly rose to his feet, sword in hand. Two soldiers and the leader now circled him, laughing, and taunting him.

'_This isn't good,' _he thought. There was no way he could win against three mounted units by himself. His eyes fell upon one of the soldiers and he noticed that he was the translator from before. He smiled, perhaps he could parlay and try to get the odds back into his favour. Though on the surface Inigo seemed nothing more than a flirt, he had more of a way with words then he let on. For instance, he knew exactly how to get a rise out of someone and get them to act rashly. Which would be his best bet now.

"Wait," He called out, "Will you not dismount and fight me fairly?"

The translator laughed in response, "And why should we fight you fairly? We are great warriors and you are but a mere snake. Are the men of the west truly so spent that they would send the likes of you to spy in our lands?"

Inigo paused, west? But west would be Valm, Did he think he was one of Walhart's men? From what Inigo remembered from history, Walhart had never been at war with Plegia.

"I am not from the west, but I assure you where I'm from we fight with honour and we do not fear our enemies. If you will not fight me fairly that means you are scared. You rely on strength of numbers rather than your own abilities. Frankly, I'd say you are not befitting of being called great warriors."

The translator seemed to surge with anger, "How dare you! A liar and a thief you are!" He roared. He turned towards his master and translated his words to him, and the master appeared to be visibly insulted. The three halted themselves and seemed to argue with another. Inigo grinned, this was all going according to plan.

"I challenge your master to single combat, should he be as great of a warrior as he claims he will take this offer and end me swiftly. What say you?"

The translator said Inigo's words back to his master. The master snarled at him and then dismounted, staring at Inigo with hateful eyes. He unpinned his white surcoat and let it drop to the ground. Inigo grinned, this was exactly what he wanted. He was certain he could take him on, if the two others stayed out.

In any case, all he needed to do was stall, just until Severa could rush in and take the others by surprise. He quickly glanced around, but he saw no sight of her, nor the soldiers that pursued her. '_Severa, I hope you're near.' _

They circled each other, looking for any opening to strike. Inigo kept his sword pointed high, while the leader held his scimitar above his head, his other hand behind his back. Inigo's breathing was heavy, and he stumbled a bit as he moved. Suddenly, the leader attacked and slashed his sword downwards, Inigo parried effortlessly. The man then drew back his blade and cut from high again, then from low, and back high, but no strikes were able to land as Inigo parried each, but he could tell the master was only testing him.

The Master eased back a bit and then suddenly thrust his scimitar in, Inigo sidestepped, his scimitar then slashed sideways, Inigo leapt back just in time. The master swung again, miss, he slashed downwards, miss, cut upwards, missed again. The master roared with anger, but Inigo was almost laughing as he danced around his blade.

Was this it? This was the great warrior? Though Inigo would be lying if he said the Master wasn't skilled, he certainly was, but Inigo was far better. However too many times did the Master foolishly leave himself open to be countered, but Inigo would not take advantage of it, he wanted to stall as long as he could.

Finally, the Master pulled his scimitar towards him and lunged forward for a stab and Inigo quickly sidestepped him. There was now a clear opening that was much too tempting to resist.

"Mind if I cut in?" Inigo said.

Inigo then quickly thrust his sword point towards his exposed side, but to his surprise, he struck air instead. The Master had moved at the last second. Inigo pulled himself back and was unexpectedly met with a flurry of slashes, and Inigo sloppily raised his sword to parry. The speed and precision at which the Master now fought with kept Inigo on his toes, he no longer danced from his blade, but he he now ran from it, fearing it like a stag would fear the wolf. It was clear to Inigo that the Master had been baiting him this entire time, but Inigo proved more formidable.

Suddenly the Master stepped away and halted his attack, looking at Inigo with a smug face. It was then that he heard the huffing of a horse and the fast stamping of hooves from behind him and Inigo whipped his body around just in time to duck under the scimitar of a horseman. But he had no time to collect himself as another horseman had charged him also, his blade just narrowly missing Inigo by the hairs of his head.

"You cowards! I thought we agreed to single combat!"

"We had not agreed to anything, you worm!" said the Translator. They reared their horses and readied themselves for another charge, the Master stayed beside them, chuckling to himself.

'_Damn it Severa, where are you?'_

Suddenly, he saw a flash of red rush behind one of the horsemen. It was Severa! Without her horse, however. She raised her sword and slashed at the unsuspecting soldier. He let out a great cry of pain as he was pulled from his saddle by her. She then plunged her blade into his chest.

Inigo, now seeing the master distracted by Severa's sudden intervention; took the opportunity to lunge at him and slammed his shoulder into him. The master was thrown back into the sand. Thinking quickly, Inigo slashed at him wildly. His blade seemed to have found it's mark as red blood sprayed from the Master's neck. He fell back onto the sand as blood pooled from him. Inigo watched in disgust and shame as the Master took his final breaths.

"I'm sorry, it had to be done, you left me no choice," he whispered, not to be heard by the master but more to justify his actions in his mind. Inigo then took and deep breath, and walked away.

He looked towards Severa who had now the last of the soldiers, the translator, on the ground. She stood above him with her sword pointed at his neck. "Please!' He cried, "Have mercy on me!"

Severa scoffed, "Just like you and your men showed us mercy? I think not, now stop crying and die like with a little dignity," she raised her sword high, but hesitated, on her face Inigo could see an almost pained expression. It was clear that Severa did not want to take yet another life that day.

"Severa," Inigo said suddenly, "You don't have to."

Severa gave him a sidelong glance, "But we do! If we spare him the first thing he will do is rat us out."

"No!" the translator interrupted, "You have beaten us fairly, by the laws that govern my people you are now my master. I swear I shall do nothing to hinder you!"

Severa sighed heavily and sheathed her sword, "Fine," she said. The man was almost crying with relief.

"Thank you, thank you! You will not regret this!" the translator said.

Inigo smiled at the man and helped him to his feet.

"What would you have me do?" the man asked.

Inigo thought for a moment. What the two needed right now the most was to get to Ylisstol and meet up with the others, though he had no clue of what direction to head. "Can you take us across the border?" Inigo asked.

The man gave a puzzled look, "No, that is much too far from here."

Inigo heard Severa huff beside him, "Then what are you even good for?"

"Wait," he pleaded, "I cannot take you back to your lands, but I can take you to the nearest town to restock supplies, and from there you may continue north as you please."

"North?" Severa questioned, "Why would we go nor-"

"That will be just fine my good sir!" Inigo interrupted, "Please, lead the way!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: **Land of stone. **

**Gerome, seven months before Lucina's arrival**

Minerva spurred left, dodging a hail of arrows that had come her way. Gerome directed Minerva upwards as he surveyed the battle that raged beneath him. Thousands fought in a ruined city, the buildings were a dull grey and decayed, but Gerome could tell that it was once a pearl of white and silver. The city was split by a great river, and upon a bridge had the two forces clashed. The bridge was large, made from the same white stones as the other buildings, and upon it were built many stone buildings and dwellings, which were now in ruins. A section of the bridge appeared to be destroyed and was instead replaced by wooden planks and scaffolding.

A small army of men in shining plate and mail armour, Gerome guessed at least five hundred, defended the bridge against a literal sea of soldiers dressed in black leathers and cloth. A number as high as tens of thousands he estimated. Why these men fought over this ruin, he could not say. Though on the surface it seemed to Gerome that this was just another of a series of pointless battles from a war spurred by greed of corrupt lords. But something told him that this battle wasn't as pointless as it seemed.

Indeed the lands that surrounded him were foreign to his eyes, he'd never known a great ruined city made from white stones, nor the river that it stretched across. But that wasn't all that was unusual. Beyond the borders of the eastern side of the city, past the black clad soldiers, was a green, but decaying, country and in the far distance were tall blackened mountains that encased dark clouds. An active volcano bellowed fire and ash into the air. An uneasiness crept into his heart from the very sight of it.

On the other side, a bright green country stretched for miles, dotted with flourishing crops and farmsteads, and in the distance, great white mountains that shone bright even while the sun was blocked by clouds. A fortress of immense scale stood at the edge of his vision, that seemed to be carved out of the white mountains itself.

Their banners were even more strange. The men in plate armour flew black and white banners with white trimmings, in the center was a white tree and seven stars lined above. Gerome could think of no nation with this sigil, neither in Valm nor elsewhere. The other force bore a flag with a sinister red eye upon a field of black. Even Gerome, with his ignorance, could infer that this flag represented a nation that believed only in the oppression and subjugation of all free men.

If there was such an implication of good and evil, this was it. The men clad in black that came from the dark lands were clearly the aggressors, and Gerome's sense of justice and honour beckoned him to intervene.

Lucina had warned them of the dangers of meddling too much with the past, but he cared not. It was their mission to save the past from Grima, and what better way to save it than ensuring people can flourish and prosper. For Gerome had no doubt that these black-clad men would ruin and destroy just as they had to their domain.

The battle seemed to be escalating. The smaller force of soldiers had now destroyed the wooden section of the bridge, which served as the only passage into the western side of the city. But there appeared to be a group of men that had stayed behind to give others time to retreat. Gerome stay above, as arrows from both sides had kept him from coming any closer. They all fought valiantly, creating shield walls with their great tower shields to hold their enemies at bay, but that didn't last for long. One by one the knights in silver armour were cut down until but a small company remained, at least fifty or so, and they too were being overwhelmed. Gerome knew what he had to do. He drove Minerva downwards towards the bridge. He tensed as he felt arrows whizz past him as well as bounce off the hard scales of his mount. But he was not deterred.

Gerome landed on a section of the bridge behind the group and dismounted, carrying his axe with him. Minerva then flew off the bridge to circle the area and avoid arrows. It was not possible for him to effectively fight from his wyverns back as the tall towers and narrow streets coupled with hails of arrows prevented him from doing so. Fighting on the ground seemed to be the best option. It was not often he fought on foot, but his skill with his axe was deadly even without his mount.

Gerome approached the group of knights, some had now turned their attention to him. Gerome could see on their faces was clear wariness. He understood completely. He had seemingly come from nowhere and his armour certainly fit the dress code of the enemy. The soldiers raised their shields towards him and readied their spears.

"I'm not your enemy, I've come to help" he said to them. Gerome then rushed past their bewildered faces towards the men in black, charging in with his mighty axe.

But then he stopped right in his tracks just before the hordes of men, only to see that these weren't men at all. These grotesque looking _creatures _in the shape of man snarled at hissed at him, barring sharp fangs and pointed ears. They were short, all of them. Some had an ashy green skin colour, others were larger, but still dwarfed by Gerome, and had a greyish colour to them. Gerome scrunched up his nose as he smelled a terrible stench emanating from these beasts.

One of these creatures rushed him, breaking Gerome out of his trance. It swung its crude sword wildly at him. Gerome parried the strike then swung his axe forward. He grimaced upon hearing the sickly crack of his blade breaking the creatures ribs. He pulled his axe free from its chest and out flowed black blood, staining the grey stones beneath it. The creature fell back writhing in pain as three more approached him, swinging their brutally made weapons just as poorly as the other. He sidestepped the first and swiped his axe along its back, the second lunged forward, thrusting its sword at Gerome's chest, but he was faster than this creature. Gerome expertly dodge the thrust and struck its neck, then in one motion cut down the third as it approached.

He fought alone, swiftly moving between the creatures, striking down foe after foe. Their blades swung wildly at the air as Gerome was too fast for them.

Finally, the creatures let up and started to flee toward the beginning of the bridge. Gerome paused and looked around, many bodies of his fallen enemies were scattered around him. Some crawled away to their comrades, whimpering from their wounds.

Though they were ugly things, Gerome still felt wrong fighting them. His only enemies in the future were Risen, they felt no pain and they did not bleed. These creatures were living and breathing, they felt fear and pain just like he did, and it irked him to see their lifeless corpses thrown about.

About fifty or so of the creatures had stayed behind as the many others fled, and they had now formed a clumsy formation at the beginning of the bridges as they approached Gerome cautiously.

He raised his axe high and bolted straight for the enemy. This seemed to have surprised them as some of them instantly retreated upon seeing Gerome charge. He crashed into the first row, sending the first few creatures staggering back as he then swung his axe around, felling many before him.

He was enough by himself to break the lines of the creatures and they fled from Gerome's axe and they scurried away into buildings and around side streets. The street before the bridge was now clear of any enemy.

But Gerome could hear the rattling of armour and the stamping of many feet coming closer to him. Round the corners of side streets and out from buildings came hundreds more creatures, they bore the same sharp teeth and pointed ears as the others before, but these were much larger, almost reaching his height, with skin as black as coal. He readied his axe, though there was an uneasiness settling in the back of his mind and he started to become anxious.

Gerome then heard marching coming from behind him. He turned and saw the knights had reformed and moved to the beginning of the bridge. There they formed a tight shield wall, two men deep. A few archers from behind their lines drew back their bows. Gerome tensed as he heard the whooshing sound of arrows flying passed his head and into the enemy.

A knight then called out to him,"You there! Mor-rohir! Quickly, get behind us!" Gerome nodded and hurried to the knights as they opened their ranks to let him in. As he came to the back of their lines he was met by one of them. He was tall, broad and strong. Gerome could see light brown hair peeking out from underneath his pointed helmet, which seemed to be more ornate than the other knights. Ot had an intricate winged design with another winged shape piece judging out from its center, above the eyes. His other armour consisted of similar intricacies. Gerome surmised that this Knight was their captain.

"You fight with the ferocity of ten men, Mor-rohir." he said, "Though your manner of arrival is questionable, how can I trust you are an ally?"

"Brother, I doubt an enemy would assail the _Orcs_ like he did," came another's voice. He was tall as well, though a bit thinner than the broad Knight. He was dressed in simple leathers with a white tree and seven stars embroidered on the front. He carried a longbow in one hand with a sword in the other.

"I saw your forces clashing with these..._Orcs_, and I decided to intervene."

The Captain nodded while keeping a wary eye on Gerome. "Very well, your intervention was much needed. We would have been overrun if you did not drive them back."

"My captain, the Orcs approach!" another Knight said suddenly, and their attention was now turned back toward their advancing foe.

The Captain put a heavy hand on Geromes shoulder. "Fight beside us, Mor-rohir, I've ordered my men from the western shore to bring boats and ferry us across. Help us hold them back until they arrive," he said

Gerome simply nodded in response and took his place behind the knights. He steadied himself, his grip around his axe tightened. Though the feeling of uneasiness was still gnawing at the back of his mind and was starting to grow into a small feeling of fear.

The hordes slammed against the shields of the knights. The Orcs' crude swords glanced off their shields and armour, barely making a scratch. The Orcs tried to force their way through their wall by brute force, but the knights were steadfast against the tide. More and more orcs piled into each other now, and a few started to climb each other and over the shield wall. Gerome swing his axe at them, striking the Orcs as they pulled themselves over the knights.

'_This won't last'_ Gerome thought to himself. Even if the men had the better arms and armour there was just far too many. More and more orcs had arrived with every one killed five more took its place.

There was a commotion to his left and Gerome turned to see the shield wall had broken, and the creatures swarmed each man. With one side broken the rest soon followed. The men in front of him had now pulled back as they were overrun. Gerome however would not retreat just yet. He stood his ground, felling any Orc that got in the way of his axe. Though he noticed he was not alone in this effort. The Captain and his brother were fighting fiercely at his side.

For a moment they fought together. The orcs seemed to fear them as many would flee as the three approached, desperate to get away from Gerome's mighty axe.

Fewer and fewer orcs now came at them, and Gerome could see the knights had routed the enemy that broke their lines. The Captain then held his sword up high "Reform the shield wall!" He cried.

The knights now formed up along the mouth of the bridge once more. Their great tower shields held tightly together and spears pointed forward, though the orcs did not come. Instead they seemed to be slowly retreating. Gerome started to become more anxious now, and a steady feeling of fear now rose within him.

He slowed his breathing as he tried to calm himself, right now he had to focus or else he would lose his life here. But he just couldn't shake this feeling of fear.

Was it the fear of death? He doubted it, Gerome had been faced with death countless times, and he had long ago cast away his fear for it. There had to be something he wasn't seeing, something his instincts were telling him that Gerome just couldn't figure out.

Minerva suddenly roared above them, but Gerome could very much tell it wasn't a mighty roar but instead one of distress. She landed on the other side of the bridge and cowered under her wings.

"Minerva!" he called out to her, but she wouldn't even look his way. Gerome's brows furrowed, his wyvern has never once ignored his calls before. Since he was young, they had always shared a special bond. In any situation he could call upon his wyvern and she would respond to any of his commands. Gerome was truly baffled. This was extremely out of character for her. Surely these Orcs did not frighten her as not even the giant form of Grima could.

But then he felt it, a great dread washed over him, like the coming of a chilling winter breeze. He now noticed the battle had gone quiet. He looked back towards the knights and saw the creatures had now pulled away. But the men did not cheer. Gerome could see the fear ridden on their faces. He looked towards the horde and his breath hitched in his throat.

Trotting between the ranks of the orcs were nine riders cloaked in black, riding black horses. Their hoods were so dark that he couldn't make out any face underneath, though as they got closer Gerome could now see that there were no faces. Only a black abyss.

This was the source of his fear, he knew it. They seemed to just emanate a dark power and terror that Gerome had never felt before.

They stopped before them. A rider in the centre, who appeared to sit straighter and taller than the others, drew his wicked blade and held it high in the air. Gerome held his axe tightly in his hands but he hand no courage to even raise it.

"Men! Into the river!" The Captain cried, and all the soldiers fled, running off the bridge and toward the stone docks beside it. Gerome stayed still however, as he was overcome by a primal fear.

"Mor-rohir!" he heard someone call. A strong hand then pulled him back. It was the captain,

"The boats are close, but we don't have time to wait for them. Come!" he said.

Gerome didn't even bother responding and he retreated with the Captain. He looked back for a moment and saw the orcs were now rushing after them once more. Arrows were now being shot at them, glancing off their armour.

They all came to the shallow banks of the river. Gerome could see a few row boats approaching, though still some ways off.

The Captain was the first to run into the river, proceeded by his brother. The rest of the soldiers followed, casting away their weapons and pulling off any armour they could. Gerome took one last look behind, seeing the mass of beasts running to them. And behind, the looming demonic shapes on their black horses.

He entered the river, running into the shallow banks that grew deeper with each step he took until the slope dropped off and the water was now at his neck. Gerome paddled hard with his arms to keep himself afloat in his heavy armour. There were many men about him struggling to stay afloat. Gerome stubbornly held on to his axe. It used to belong to his late mother, he'd never even think to part with it.

The row boats seemed to move as slow as snails as Gerome struggled against his weight. The pattering sound of arrows piercing the water was all about them as the Orcs fired their bows. A man cried out in pain as he was struck in his neck from an arrow. Gerome could only watch helplessly as the man sunk to the depths.

"Minerva!" Gerome hollered again, but his cries would not be heeded from his wyvern. The terror of those riders in black was too much, even for her.

Gerome swam toward the boats, but his arms felt like cinder blocks, and each time he drew himself up he was pulled a little more under the water. It was as if a hand was tugging at his legs from the bottom of the river, pulling him deeper.

Finally, Gerome could take no more. His arms would not move, and he sunk to the darkness of the great river.

Suddenly a figure tore through the water and grasped at Gerome. It latched on to his cape and violently pulled him upwards. Gerome tore through the surface of the water as he was heaved onto a rowboat. He sat there for a moment, coughing up water. After regaining his composure, he took a moment to look around him and saw a few soaked knights breathing heavily. There were other boats too, carrying the rest of the soldiers to the western shore. He also noticed the Captain as well as his brother was with him in the boat. The Captain's brother had his hands on Gerome's cape. It seemed that it was him that saved Gerome from drowning.

He looked at him and nodded slightly, "Many thanks, you have saved me from my end." Gerome said to him.

The captain's brother gave a small smile, "It was you who charged the enemy alone a moment ago to assist us, it was only right to return the favour."

Gerome grunted as he turned to look back at the eastern shores. The Orcs stood on the banks sneering and shouting in some foreign and demonic speech.

Gerome watched them with hard eyes and their shapes grew smaller as the boats approached the western shore. Many questions came to him then. Just what were these _Orcs_? And where had they come from? And lastly, what was that _dark power_ from the riders?

"Orcs," he said suddenly, "What are they?"

"They are a race of cruel and twisted beings who exist only to destroy," spoke the Captain. "Have you never encountered them before?"

"I had never known such creatures even existed until today." Gerome said plainly. The men in the boat seemed puzzled by this as they looked at him with confused faces.

"How can that be? There is not any land in this world that hasn't been tainted by their presence." The captain asked.

'_That's interesting' _Gerome thought. '_Orcs have been everywhere, so why do I not know about them?' _He sighed, it was something he'd have to research later.

"What about those black riders? What manner of man are they and why did I fear them?"

The men in the boat were deathly silent, staring downwards with hard eyes and faces showing a great pain.

The Captain exhaled suddenly, as if he was holding his breath, "They are an ancient and terrible enemy, I do not wish to darken this already dark day with talk of them so soon, but know that they are a fearsome foe, and that fear you felt was their chief weapon."

Gerome nodded in understanding. He was content with this explanation for now. In his heart he truly didn't want to know more about them anyway.

"I have been meaning to ask you," the Captain said again, "From where do you hail?"

"Ylisse," Gerome said.

The two brothers looked at each other for a moment. "Ylisse," repeated the Captain while he stroked his chin. "You are the second man I've heard that hails from there, though I have not seen it on any map,"

"Indeed," cut in the captain's brother, "I have asked many of the Loremasters in Minas Tirith, none have ever heard of such a place."

Gerome's eyes narrowed behind his mask, "You..don't know Ylisse? Yet you've met someone from there already?"

"We have," replied the Captain, "Months ago, while I was patrolling the Great Wall of Rammas Echor, I came across a rather...callous fellow wandering around the gates. At first I thought I had come across another wizard since he wore a strange pointed hat, but this lad was far too young. I tried questioning him but he kept on berating my men about the condition of the wall. I bore his rambling for a whole hour before I had my men seize him for questioning. He then told me he hails from Ylisse and his name was Laurent. Do you know him?"

"Yes," said Gerome, " He was among my companions that travelled...here."

"I see, in truth I would have simply sent him on his way, though he seemed to have an affinity for _magic_. He also told me a strange thing. He said he had never heard of the realm of Gondor before. Or of Mordor."

"Neither have I," Gerome deadpanned.

The captain's brother furrowed his brows while stroking his chin, "So, you do not know of our lands and we do not know of yours. This is strange to say the least. How is it that you even ended up here?"

"I'll tell you another time, once I see a map. Where is Laurent now, by the way?"

"In Minas Tirith. My father was also quite interested in his story, so he gave him access to the great Library in the Citadel. My brother and I shall take you to him, when we go to report to our Father."

Finally the boats halted at the banks of the western shore and all the knights shakily jumped out. They were met by many other soldiers. One of them, who now had bandages wrapped around a still bleeding wound on his arm, approached The Captain and his brother.

"Please forgive me, my Lords, for not sending the boats quicker, more men would have survived had I not tended to my wounds first."

"Do not worry, if not for Mor-rohir aiding us in battle, many more would have perished." The Captain said while gesturing towards Gerome.

"Why do you call me that? That's not my name."

"Mor-rohir, it means _Dark Knight_ in the language of the elves. I did not have your name so I did not know what to call you other than what I saw." The captain then outstretched his hand towards Gerome.

"I am sorry, I did not give you a proper introduction of myself. I am Boromir, son of Denethor, captain of Gondor and high warden of the white tower, and this is my brother Faramir, captain of the rangers of ithillien. Might I have your name?"

He clasped Boromir's hand, "Gerome, son of Virion."

Boromir gave him a warm smile, "Well Gerome son of Virion, you have mine and my men's thanks. You have proven yourself to be an ally of Gondor."

Gerome simply grunted in response. Suddenly a great roar from the broken bridge caught their attention. It was Minerva, Gerome could tell she was still in distress, he then rushed off towards the bridge to see her, followed by Boromir and Faramir.

When he came to the bridge he saw a few men with spears waving them at her, as well as some shooting arrows at her tough scales. Gerome felt an anger rise within him. He hurried towards the men with spears and pushed them away from Minerva. "Stop it! You're scaring her!" He said while he gently caressed his wyvern's head.

"This is your fell beast? What enemy are you?" Said one of the soldiers.

"She's not a beast!" Gerome quickly cut in.

"Nor is he an enemy," came Boromir's voice. "Stand down men, Morrohir and his..._mount, _are allies of Gondor."

The spear and bowmen relaxed themselves as they watched Gerome gently soothe his wyvern. He then heard small chuckling coming from the brothers. "Something funny?" Gerome asked.

"It just seems so strange for one to have a strong connection to this..._flying animal"_ Faramir said. Gerome looked back to Minerva.

"She used to belong to my mother. She has been my trusted wyvern for many battles. Minerva is quite friendly, but she hates spears."

"Well, I will tell my men to leave Minerva be." Boromir said. Boromir then turned toward the gathering soldiers, "Come now lads, a hard day has been fought, I'd say we have earned some good rest, and a hearty meal!"

The soldiers surrounding them seemed to be pleased with this as they cheered and rushed off. Boromir then turned toward Gerome, "Are you going to join us?"

Gerome shook his head, "I'll stay here, with Minerva."

"So be it, I'll have my men bring you some food for you and your wyvern." Boromir and Faramir waved at Gerome as they then left with their soldiers. He was now left alone on the bridge.

Gerome looked around at the ruined city as he gently stroked Minerva's head. She seemed eased now and she cooed softly under his hands. It was quiet around him, except for the footsteps of passing soldiers. Though they were sparse. He spared a glance to the eastern shore and noticed there was no sign of any enemies, no orcs, and no _black riders_.

'_Gondor, Mordor, what are these places. Where did I even end up?' _He mused in his mind.

'These men don't know of Ylisse either, is this even the past of our world?' He quickly dismissed the thought. He trusted Lucina and Naga enough not to mislead him. After all, there was still much of the world he hadn't seen. But what he was certain of is that he was far from home, and far from his mission. He sighed to himself. He'd just have to wait to see what the coming days would bring.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Had a lot of issues uploading this chapter, it kept uploading as one big wall of text. Had to update it like 4 times. **

Chapter 4:** A Night of Terror.**

**Lucina**

Lucina looked around her frantically as she navigated the darkness of her latest nightmare. Suddenly, a faint orange glow pierced the blackness, growing brighter every second. She curiously sniffed the air, the scent of burning wood and brick reached her nose. The glow became brighter and seemed to flicker and dance.

_'Fire,'_ she thought,_ 'Something is on fire!'_

She rushed towards the flame. As she came closer, her breath hitched in her throat once she realized what it was that was burning. Ylisstol, her home, ablaze on that fateful night before her departure. Even from where she stood she could hear the terrible screams of its inhabitants. The world contorted and shifted around and she was now standing inside the throne room. The brave soldiers of Ylisse she'd fought beside were slaughtered by endless hordes of Risen. She tried to attack, but her sword simply passed through as if she was swinging at air. The building around her suddenly crumbled as a dark smoke filled the room. Six glowing red eyes pierced the darkness. Her sword fell to the ground as she then fell to her knees. A twisted laugh bellowed from Grima's horned head. The hopelessness that filled her in the future returned and she couldn't stop tears from flowing down her cheeks.

"You will fail," came Grima's bellowing voice,"You can never hope to stop what is set in motion! The world will burn, and all will come to ruin!"

She then felt something within herself, a small feeling of anger, of frustration building inside her. She rose to her feet, now standing tall and proud, and faced Grima with hardened eyes lit with fury. "No! We can stop you," She said, "Hope will never die as long as I stand in your way. I will not let you bring doom to the world, not again!"

Grima's enormous neck sharply jerked itself to look directly at her, twisting about as it lowered itself to be level with where Lucina stood.

She then felt something that made her hairs stand tall on the back of her neck. She felt like someone or rather _something_ was watching her. Grima hissed and disappeared into the blackness, leaving her alone with whatever terrifying presence was behind her. Dread and fear washed over her. She whipped her body around to see something else appearing from the black, Lucina's eyes widened and she began to shake uncontrollably as she saw the phantom-like form of the black rider with it's piercing gaze and icy aura. A cold pale hand reached out for her and she screamed.

Though it's hand did not reach her as it too had faded to black. Her surroundings became brighter and she found herself in a serene garden surrounded by high walls, walls that she knew all too well. She was the gardens in the citadel of Ylisstol, the ones that she spent so much of her childhood lounging in when she wasn't training. The strong scent of its flowers came to her and put her troubled mind to ease. She felt her eyelids become heavy and she fell back into a deep sleep.

Lucina's eyes shot open, back into the real world. She stayed laying flat on her stomach for a bit as a raging headache pounded in her ears. It was dark outside, she noticed, but there seemed to be a faint orange glow that coated the trees around her. She looked around for the source and finally saw a flame from a lit torch. And carrying that torch was a figure hooded and cloaked, and there were others too. Finally her eyes were able to focus on the figures. When she finally was able to focus her mind flooded with recognition of their tall and rugged forms, the bandits from before were back!

Lucina snapped to her feet and leaped back, drawing her sword as she did. Her eyes frantically darted between each man, and her breath was ragged and hollow. She felt terribly cold and her sword shook in her hand as she herself could not keep a confident composure. "St-stay back! O-or I shall strike all of you down!"

From the dim glow from the torches on their faces Lucina could see they seemed confused, others seemed wary. Some had their hands on their swords, ready to draw. The tallest of them, the one she had fought, slowly approached her, Lucina backed away as he did.

"Be at ease boy!" He said, "You are still being affected by the black breath." He waved behind him and another bandit strode forward, he carried in his hands a small wooden bowl with a steaming liquid inside. "Breath in these fumes boy, it will ease your mind," the tallest Bandit said again.

Lucina furrowed her eyebrows. Whatever it was that was in that bowl, she knew it was simply a lure to let her guard down. "Do you take me for a fool!?" she shouted.

"No harm will come to you from these fumes, you have my word." The tallest Bandit took the bowl in his own hands and made an effort to draw in a deep and audible breath. He then held the bowl out to her. "Come now, boy, we haven't much time." She almost snapped at the Bandit for calling her 'Boy', but that's what she wanted anyways, she was happy to at least know that her disguise worked well.

"How do I know you don't seek to poison me?"

"We used it already to wake you from your collapsed state, and were it not for this herb you would never have woken again."

She eased up a bit, perhaps this wasn't some sort of noxious or enchanting liquid. Though they were still suspicious. She sheathed her sword and slowly approached the bandit and reached for the bowl. She recoiled a bit at the sudden warmth from the wooden bowl. She stepped back a bit, making sure to keep a wary eye on the men as they watched her. She then drew in the steam from the liquid and to her surprise a bright warmth swiftly coursed through her, and she felt her fear and anxiety immediately vanish. Replaced now by a feeling of calmness and relaxation, no longer was she a jittery mess, but stood a little taller as her confidence and valour regained their footing in herself. Oddly, the liquid smelled to her of the flowers in Ylisstol's Gardens, and a bit of the perfume her mother used to wear.

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"It is Athelas, or kingsfoil as known to most. It is a rare find in the wild. Much healing power it has against the ailments of the world, and more so against the powers of the darkness," said one of the bandits. She handed the bowl back to the tallest and backed away a few paces. For a moment they stared at eachother in silence, the tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Lucina thought about drawing her sword, but she was curios as to why the Bandit's had lent their aid, and she wanted to know just what those _Black riders _were. They clearly knew about them.

Suddenly the tallest bandit spoke in a booming voice, "We cannot let you continue in these lands alone. Though I have reason to doubt your intentions are ill, I still want more information on how you seemingly slipped passed our defences. So you may come with us on peaceful terms, or should you wish," he quickly drew his sword, the others immediately followed suit, "We shall force you."

Lucina drew in a deep breathe and exhaled heavily. She then placed a strong grip on Falchion and drew it swiftly. There were ten or so Bandits, in any other situation Lucina would not take the risk, but in the dark both the vision of her self and the enemy were greatly hindered. She had confidence her speed would give her the edge in this. She stood now before her adversaries, unmoving as a rock in water. She would not be taken now, the future of this world was dependant upon her, she had to stop Grima!

"If you but knew the urgency of my mission, you'd do well not to hinder me," she began, "The world is in danger, everyone will perish should I not reach my destination in time, this matter is beyond any of you petty thieves. Now _let me pass_! Or I shall strike you down!"

The threat was not taken lightly amongst the Bandits, but their Captain appeared calm, "You misunderstand us," the tallest Bandit said

But before he could explain further, multiple shrill sounding screeches filled the night air, striking terror into Lucina's heart, she instantly covered her ears and dropped down to her knees. When the screeches finally subsided after what felt like an eternity, the men were all in a frenzy. "The Nine have returned!" were their fear stricken shouts as they retreated. Lucina tried to do the same, but something had grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. She looked and saw the tallest bandit was tugging at her arm,

"You're coming with us!" he said in haste. Lucina didn't think twice and instantly threw out her fist, feeling it connect with his jaw and he staggered back.

She ripped free of his grasp and sprinted off into the trees. "No boy! Come back!" they called out to her. She of course would not heed their shouts. She ran through the wild as fast as her feet could carry her, ducking and weaving between the trees and thick vegetation. The darkness of the night made it difficult for her to navigate through the forest with speed, and she winced when stray branches cut her face, but she kept onwards. Lucina only had one thing on her mind, she had to get away. Far, far away from whatever those screeches belonged to, which she was certain were more of those 'Black Riders.'

In the distance she could hear the quick stamping of horses hooves and steel clashing against steel. The fear stricken cries of the bandits reached her ears and she quickened her pace.

It was some time later when she was bent against a tree, gasping for air. She would have preferred to continue for no matter how far she got away she knew she wasn't far enough. But her legs burned and her feet felt like bricks, she would have to stay put for the moment. She sat against the tree breathing heavily, trying to collect her thoughts on this day, and what a day it had been. She definitely considered this to be her most unluckiest day of her entire life. First she had emerged alone, with no sign of her companions anywhere, then she was ambushed by a troop of the most skilled bandits she'd ever faced, who'd never even heard of one of the most powerful nations in the world? But there was then the last and perhaps the most troublesome, her encounters with whatever demonic beings those Black Riders were.

Where had they come from? Were they men? Or were they perhaps something far more sinister? She knew for certain they weren't Risen, for not even their greatest champions, the DeadLords, could strike so much fear and terror at those just by the same _vicinity_ as them. Not even Grima had that effect on her. And those screeches, a cold shiver coursed through her just from the very thought of it. Those weren't the kind of sounds a Risen could make, or anything else rather.

Her musings were cut short however as she then heard the slow clopping sounds of a horse's hooves coming from behind the tree she sat against, though it sounded far. Suddenly, the howls of the night time birds and chirping of insects instantly vanished and she felt herself being filled with an all too familiar dread. She cautiously peeked around the trunk and almost screamed. Just in front of where she sat was a distinctive black shape, far blacker than the darkness of the night, moving through the trees. A long silver sword appeared with it, it's blade shone as it reflected the pale moonlight. It appeared to be one of the riders, dismounted. Though it appeared that it had not noticed her yet. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and tried hard to muffle her ragged breaths. It scanned the trees around her, it's head, if it even had one, was darting all around, all the while making some sort of sniffing sound.

Thinking quickly, Lucina grabbed a fallen branch, being as careful as she could to not make any sound as she did, she then turned and threw it as far as she could into the bushes that were a good distance away from her tree. The sniffing sounds from the rider instantly seized and it shreaked loud as it moved towards the bushes like the wind. She sat low against her tree with her eyes closed tight hoping, or praying, that the Rider would not see her. Eventually there was the sharp snapping of reins and a horse neighing loudly as it then sped off down the road.

She waited for a while listening closely for anything. Slowly the sounds of the nighttime forest returned. And Lucina was able to then take a deep and loud breath as if a huge weight had been lifted off her. She quickly snapped up and looked around, when no sign of the horse or the black shape could be seen, she quickly bolted farther into the forest, opposite the direction of the Rider.

Eventually she reached a shallow river that split the forest in two. She decided to cross it in the hopes of putting another obstacle between her and anything that pursued her. Though she felt a strong temptation sto stop and wash up, and in normal circumstances she would have, especially after the day she just had, but she knew that would be a luxury she could not afford now.

Lucina was unable to judge how deep the river went just by looking, as it was much too dark for that so she found a good sized tree branch and used that to check its depth. She found it wasn't very deep and she could cross it by walking without trouble. She stepped into the river without any hesitation, getting her feet wet was the least of her concerns at the moment. Though she shivered a bit from the coolness of the water.

Lucina soon reach the other side. She sharply turned back around and watched closely for a sign of anything that might have been following her. Though it was much too hard to make out anything in the dark, so she reluctantly turned and continued on into the forest. Eventually Lucina came across another dirt road that stretched for many miles. Following this road would be her best bet of finding safety, she decided, as it was certain to lead to some village or town. It wouldn't be wise to simply walk along it, so instead she stayed a few yards into the forest, making sure to stop every-now and then to checl for any pursuers. Lucina would not stop this night, she could not stop, not until she found civilization. But for now she had to stay vigilante against anything that could assail her on this terror filled night.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: **At the sign of the Prancing Pony**

**Lucina**

It had been a full day since she began following the road again, dashing between the trees, stopping every now and then to slump down between the bushes, watching, and waiting. Sleep only came when she was simply too exhausted to go on and she was forced to sleep wherever she dropped. Perhaps she was being a bit paranoid, but those Black Riders were simply too much for her to deal with. Whatever dark power these entities held it could not be overcome with skill of blade alone.

Food was a major issue. She had only brought enough to sustain her for maybe a day or two, as she hoped to forage and hunt as she travelled in the past. But between being ambushed by demonic beings and bandits there was simply no time for that.

Though for quite some time no enemy had made themselves known, or really anyone at all. Lucina, now feeling a bit more brazen, chose to walk along the open road. She stayed towards the edge however, just in case she needed to make a quick dash into the trees. While she walked Lucina decided to leave her mask, which miraculously had not been lost by now, stored away in her travelling sack. It hindered her sight too much to be of any use on the road, not when she needed a keen eye at all times.

The road stretched far and long in a mostly straight line. At one point it ended with an intersection of another road and she was presented with two options, left towards empty wilderness, or to the right, the same. It seemed like her choice didn't matter much so she chose to head left and walked the seemingly endless wilderness.

After some time she approached a bend in the road that curved around a rather large hedge, so she couldn't see the other side. As she came near the bend she stopped for a moment to take a quick cautionary listen, she didn't want to walk into another ambush. She listened closely, there were birds chirping, and insects, as well as calls from larger animals. All good signs that any Black Riders weren't near. She started off again and was about to round the corner when...

_Clop...clop...clop._

She froze…a rider was coming! Whether it was a Black Rider or someone else she didn't want to wait and find out in the open. She bolted to hide amongst the trees, crouched low, her hand steady on her sword. And she waited for whatever rider was coming around that bend. Louder and louder the sound of the horse's hooves came, but Lucina didn't feel the distinct sense of impending doom she felt whenever those Black Riders were near, and the birds still chirped merrily amongst themselves. Finally the horse came into view and Lucina stared quizzically at the sight before her.

It was a horse indeed, though it was riderless, and it's coat was a warm brown rather than a striking black. The horse was saddled and bridled and It appeared to be walking aimlessly along the road. Lucina listened closely for any footsteps that followed the horse, or for any shouts from its owner, but there was only the horse. So where was the rider?

Lucina stood up slowly, her eyes darted back and forth, just in case. She could use a horse, it would make escaping any threats that much easier. She walked slowly into the centre of the road making sure that the horse had a clear view of her. She tried to make as little sudden noises as possible; the last thing she wanted was the horse to get spooked and run away. Closer now she came, and she held her hand ever so slightly out towards it's long face and at the same time reached for the loose reins. The horse looked at her, somewhat curiously but so far it didn't seem like it was going to bolt. Finally she came within reach and slowly stroked her hand along the side of it's face while making sure the reins were firmly in her grasp. "Easy now, easy now," she repeated softly, the horse was surprisingly calm.

She continued to brush her hand gently along it's face and down it's mane. She could feel the firmness of it's muscles and the softness of it's hair. This was a good horse. She wondered what could have possibly happened to it's rider, surely someone wouldn't just abandon this horse, especially not one as strong and capable as this one. She petted the horse for some time and it became clear to her that this horse was not going to spook. So the only thing to do now was to try her luck and mount it. Moving quickly, she placed one foot inside the stirrup and leapt onto the saddle. Fortunately the horse appeared to not object to this.

She started her horse forwards into a light trot down the road. The morning sun had now started to peek through the trees and light had returned to the forest. As she rode something caught her eye, there was an odd shape near the path. Upon coming closer it appeared to be a person, face down sprawled along the wayside.

She drew up beside to see a lifeless corpse in the dirt. On it was a loose chainmail shirt from which a green cloak was wrapped around. This had to be one of the bandits from earlier she thought. She thought back to when she was ambushed yesterday, and the horsemen that had interrupted their fight, who warned them about the Black Riders. Lucina could tell that this was that very same horseman. His clothes matched, and she now remembered the horse, the one she rode now, was his also.

The black riders had slew him, she was sure of it. And from the looks of the state of the corpse he had met his end only recently. She looked around frantically as she scanned for any sign of them. A sudden crow cawing and flying away from a tree made her jump. Her horse started to become restless, danger was near. She could not linger, she had to leave. But then something caught her eye once again, from the corpse of the bandit rose a faint smoke. Not the smoke of something being lit aflame, but rather it was purple in colour, it almost looked as if it came from-

Lucina jumped as the corpse of the bandit suddenly jerked and pushed itself to its feet, groaning in an inhuman manner as it did. It stumbled around clumsily before turning towards her and Lucina all but gasped in shock; a familiar skull-like mask was on his face through which glowing red eyes peered at her.

'_Risen!? So soon In the past? That can't be possible!' _Her thoughts were interrupted however when the Risen rushed her. She drew her sword and with a crack of the reins Lucina charged forward.

_Woosh….slick! _came the sound of Lucina's blade as she struck the Risen's neck. The head came clean off, fading away in a cloud of thick purple smoke until nothing remained. The rest of the corpse did as well. And all was quiet in the forest once more.

A heavy ruffling in the hedge behind her and Lucina reared her horse around as two more Risen sprung out onto the roads. Their arms and armour bearing striking resemblance to Ylissean soldiers.

"Yah!" She whipped the reins and spurred her steed into action. She rode passed one, swiping her sword down as she did, then reared her horse around and rode down the other. The both of them fading into a puff of purple smoke.

Lucina breathed a short sigh as she sheathed Falchion. How strange it was, to be assaulted by a Risen, especially in the past. If this was the point in time the outrealm gate was supposed to take her to, then the Risen wouldn't appear for sometime. Though it was possible for some to have followed them through the outtrealm gate, but the Bandit was clearly newly reanimated. Perhaps those loyal to Grima were already more active than she wished. She turned her steed and continued down the road.

Her journey was long, and rather uneventful. She'd not seen a single person traveling along the road this entire time. Though judging by its abysmal state, it seemed like this road was seldom used. The stones were spread far and wide and overgrown with grass and weeds making it so that at times it was hard to tell there was even a path at all to begin with.

The road continued through empty lands as she travelled late into the night. At one point the road lay to the left of a series of low hills that stretched for miles, upon the hills was a great and thick fog, illuminated in an almost eerie glow from the pale moonlight, but Lucina could make out a series of large stone markings spread out far that were clearly man made. Contained within the fog were also a few ruined stone structures. As she looked deeper into the fog, she could make out something else lingering near the ruins. Large dark shapes that brought an uneasiness to her as she watched them move through the mist like a boat would sail the seas. They weren't animals, that was for certain, but whatever they were Lucina knew she had to stay far, far away. Her ride along this section of the road was the swiftest by far.

It was just a bit before sunset the next day when she came to a crossroads, to the left the road stretched deep into a far and wild country, but to the right the road led to a rather sizable hill, said hill was not of much interest to Lucina, but what was more interesting was the village that was built in and around it. She couldn't help but let a smile creep onto her face and a warm sense of relief washed over her. Civilisation at last!

It was a rather modest settlement. Around a hundred stone houses were arrayed around the hill, with their windows facing west. A few more smaller homes appeared to be built further up and into the hill itself.

The road led straight towards a deep dike where a large and thick hedge stood on the inner side, appearing to be a sort of wall for the town. Over the causeway to where the road pierced the hedge there was a large wooden gate through which a few more houses were built just beyond. As she approached she found the gate to be wide open, with a gatekeeper sitting just behind the entrance. Once he saw her he sprung up in surprise and immediately stood in the doorway, barring Lucina from entering.

"Halt!" he called out, " What do you want and where do you come from?" he asked gruffly.

"I'm looking to perhaps ask someone for directions, I've seemed to have gotten lost along the road,"

The gatekeeper looked at her curiously, "You're an awfully young lad to be travelin' these roads alone, to where ye be heading, might I ask?"

"Ylisstol, the capital city of Ylisse, would you perhaps know where that is?"

He stared at her darkly for a moment before shaking his head, "Ah, ye be a strange fellow lookin for strange lands I'd say, never heard of no Ylisse before,"

Lucina stared at the man in silent bewilderment, this was the second person to say they've never heard of Ylisse. Just where had she ended up? Was this truly the past? She buried the thought, Lucina trusted Naga to not deceive her.

"Could I perhaps find some lodging in this town then?" The journey made Lucina terribly exhausted, and the prospects of a feather bed for the night were all too tempting to pass up.

"Aye, if it be lodging you're lookin for then make for The Pony, it's an inn just down the road. But a few more questions from me if you will. What's your business with this Ylisse? And what might your name be?"

"My name and my business is my own to keep," she said to him, not liking the look of the man or his tone of voice.

The man nodded, "Your business is your own no doubt, but it's my business to ask questions to any outsiders that come to Bree, and you're a strange looking fellow. I've not seen anyone with blue hair before, nor eyes so blue to match."

Her eyes? He could see her eyes?! She lifted her hand up to her face and her heart almost dropped to her stomach. Her mask wasn't there! She had completely forgotten to put it back on, but her fears of being discovered were quickly dissuaded. If the gatekeeper hadn't heard of Ylisse he wouldn't know it's royalty either. Her identity was safe for now.

"And not to mention you're armed," he said, eyeing her sword, "I won't be lettin you through until you at least tell me your name."

"Fine! My name is Marth, is that good enough for you?!" she said with annoyance clear in her voice.

The gatekeeper nodded, "Alright young sir I meant no offense, can't be too careful with outsiders, there's talk of strange folk abroad."

He moved from the open gate to let Lucina through, "Well? Be quick about it," he said when he saw Lucina hesitate for a few moments. She started her horse forward and through the gates, but once she passed she halted.

"This town, what kingdom is it in?" she said over her shoulder.

"Kingdom? Ah there's none in these lands, We look after ourselves in Bree. There's not been a king nor lord of the lands since the days of the _old kingdom_. Lost to the grass a thousand years ago it was. But we here in Bree remained, just as we always have."

A free people living amongst themselves? That didn't seem likely to be found on Ylisse, and the entire continent of Valm should almost all be conquered by Wallhart by now. She continued her horse forward. She wanted to ask more questions but she was weary from the road, and there was something about the gatekeeper that unnerved her. A quick glance over her shoulder saw that the gatekeeper still stalked her with a wary eye.

She followed the street of the village up a gentle slope, passing a few detached houses and many of the village inhabitants, who peeked at her curiously as she rode by. She stopped her horse in front of a rather large building. There was a wide arch led into a courtyard to where the building encircled, and on the front of the arch was a sign hanging from it of a white pony reared up on its hind legs. A door under the arch led to the inside of the inn from which a warm light poured out, and from inside the alluring smell of fresh bread being baked reached her nose, making her stomach rumble loudly. Above the door, painted in white letters, read '_The Prancing Pony by Barliman Butterbur.'_

She dismounted, and led her horse under the arch and into the courtyard. She then stepped inside the inn, leaving her horse standing outside. As she entered the smell of baking bread became overpowering, and her stomach was rumbling ferociously.

She stood for a time beside a large wooden counter where many barrels were stacked behind. She examined the seating area of the inn, which had a rather inviting and cosy look to it. A fire was already crackling in the hearth at the far wall and candles were lit at each table, coating everything in a warm glow. Already there were a couple of patrons seated, smoking from wooden carved pipes and drinking from tall tankards.

"Well good evening young master!"

Lucina jumped at the sudden voice from beside her. She turned to see a short fat man with a bald, bearded head and a red face standing behind the counter, he had a white apron on and was drying off a few mugs with a cloth.

"Why! I've not ever seen someone so blue before! Visiting from some far off land, eh?"

"You could say that," she said.

"Hm, if you'll pardon my wondering, where are you coming from?"

"Ylisse," she felt the need to keep her voice low, just in case there were any eavesdroppers. She didn't plan on being here long, and she'd rather not have people know too much about her.

He looked away with squinted eyes as if trying to search his memory, "Ylisse….Ylisse? Hmm, now I get sometimes get far off travelers at my inn, and I've not got much in the ways of remembering all these strange places they've come, one thing drives out the other so to speak, but no one's ever said to me they come from Ylisse, not quite sure if I've ever heard that name before either."

Lucina gave a small sigh, she somehow expected this. First the bandit, then the gatekeeper, and now him. Clearly no one in a hundred leagues from here had heard of her homeland, which only meant that Lucina had quite the journey before her. But that wasn't what she cared about right now, what she really wanted was some rest.

"It's..far from here. Are you the innkeeper by any chance?" she said

"That's right," the man nodded, standing a little straighter as he did, "Barliman's my name. Barliman Butterbur at your service. What can I do for you then, young master?"

"I'd like a bed please, preferably in a room to myself, and stabling for my horse if you can manage."

"Aye, that we can," he peered out of the door at her horse from where he stood, then turned and hollered over his shoulder.

"Hi! Nob! Where are you now, you woolly footed slow-coach? Nob!"

"Coming, sir! Coming!" A small man then bobbed out of a door, so small that Lucina almost mistook him for a child, though his voice and mature face said otherwise. He walked about barefoot, his disproportionately large feet were covered in thick hair, almost like fur. Upon seeing Lucina he stopped and crooked an eyebrow at her, "You're an odd looking fellow, aren't you now?"

"Nob! This here young master needs his horse stabled, fetch Bob and tell him to find some room, double sharp!" Nob nodded and trotted off quickly out the door.

"Right then young master, with me if you will," Butterbur then hurried off up some stairs, Lucina followed close behind. He led her to the very end of the long hallway that ended with a small wooden door to the left, "Aye, if you fancy a room to yourself I'm afraid this is all we can manage."

He opened the door and she entered a rather cramped room with hardly enough space for her to even walk in. A small feather bed took up most of the space. Just beside it was a small square table and a stool tucked underneath. A wooden basin for washing was in the other corner, just behind where the door opened into the room. Above the bed was a single window, big enough for her to climb through, should she need to.

"It's a little tight but you're a small lad so I'm sure it'll suit."

Lucina gave him a small smile, "It's good enough for me, thank you Mr. Butterbur,"

"No need for thanks young master I'm here to serve, just be ready to pay in the morning, now if you'll excuse me I must be trottin," he then turned and was about to take off but halted as he seemed to remember something, "Oh! It slipped my mind to ask if you'll pardon, but what may your name be?"

"Marth," she said without hesitation. Though it felt useless to keep up the Hero-King fassade, she just felt better using a false name.

"Hmm, Marth...strange name, but I'm not one to judge, odd folk of all kinds have been stayin' at the inn lately, though none with blue hair….ah, pardon me if you will, don't mind me. You'll be wanting supper, I don't doubt, though you'd not be wanting to eat in this old closet I'd think, so come on down when you're ready and I'll have Nob bring you something. Oh and, I don't know if you had a mind to join the company tonight, but they'd be pleased to welcome you, we don't get many travellers from far off lands these days, and we'd like to hear of any news or tales from the outside. Alright then Master Marth, I really must be going now," and at last he was off down the hallway and disappeared down the steps.

Lucina let out a sigh, relieved to be finally rid of the man. Butterbur seemed like a nice fellow, and she was sure he meant well, but he just seemed capable of an endless stream of talk.

She at last turned to her room, eyeing the alluring feather bed before her. She closed the door behind her, and impatiently removed her cloak, boots, and shoulder guards, after which she slumped down onto the mattress. Lucina didn't remember the last time she slept in a bed, probably before Ylisstol fell, but this one seemed softer than any she'd ever slept on. Or perhaps she was just too used to the dirt.

She felt her eyelids grow heavy, until at last her exhaustion of her journey caught up with her, and sleep took her.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I apologize for the slow updates but please bear with me, I am a full time student and I haven't had a semester off for two years. So summer, winter, fall I'm always in school. It's just hard to find time, you know? I should have written the whole thing before posting but im one of those instant gratification types of people ya feel. Plus I get distracted like super easy lmao.**

**Just for clarity, Cynthia named her Pegasus Sumia. It's kinda weird but I'll throw in a line or something that justifies it in another chapter or something. **

Chapter 6: **The Hero**

**Cynthia, seven months before Lucina's arrival.**

Cynthia strolled along the coastline, leading her trusted Pegasus by the reins. The sun was beginning to rise over the mountain tops to her left, painting the cloudless sky a beautiful array of orange and deep blue hues. She had arrived just a few moments ago, alone unfortunately, though she expected it. She was just happy some risen didn't follow her too.

She took a moment to admire the beauty of the sunrise, but then as her gaze shifted to the lands surrounding her, all she could do was give a hopeless stare at the emptiness about. A great ocean crashed against the sandy beaches of a dry and arid land that stretched for miles, encompassed by far off rocky hills and mountains.

"Ugh, why did it have to be Plegia?" she groaned aloud.

Though Lucina had told her it wasn't guaranteed they'd all arrive exactly in the same spot that they came from, or even together for that matter, she had at least hoped she could have arrived somewhere more...pleasant. This was after all hostile territory, not just in climate but in people as well. She only hoped that she could slip passed the border into Ylisse unnoticed.

Cynthia continued at a leisurely pace, just simply basking in the ambience. The air was still cool and crisp, with a gentle breeze that blew past her locks. She knew the weather was going to be quite overbearing once the sun was out, as such was for desert climates, so for now she would enjoy the coolness while it lasted.

Dawn gave way to morning, and Cynthia continued to walk, and walk, and walk. One hour of walking became two, two became three, yet she was no closer to finding civilization. Her feet ached underneath her, making every step unbearable to take. The dreadful sun made her sweat almost an entire ocean underneath her suffocating armour and if it wasn't for the fact that she was also starving half to death, she would press on, but she could take no more and finally found respite underneath the shade of large palm trees. There she sat with her pegasus, gasping for air and taking greedy sips from her waterskin, though it did little to drench her parched throat.

"Ugh, _why_ did it have to be PLEGIA!?" she found herself saying again. She dug through her traveling pack and was disheartened when all she found was a few pieces of hardtack, her rations were worse than she'd thought. She took the first piece and grimaced as she slowly bit into it. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would be left without anything.

As she sat staring blankly off into the distance, something caught her eye; just over the ricky hill in front of her was black smoke rising high into the air. She scrambled to her feet and raced up the hill. As she climbed to the top she caught sight of a modest fishing village in the distance, where it seemed the smoke was coming from. Her eyes widened as she saw flames sprouting from the base of the smoke.

"A village burns! People are in peril!" she said aloud. Even though Plegians and Ylisseans were supposed to be hostile in these times, Cynthia didn't care for it. They were people, just like her, that just wanted to live a life of peace. She needed to help, it was her mission, her duty even, to save the lives of those in the past, no matter their origin. She hurried to her pegasus in full sprint, leaping onto her back and grabbing a firm hold of the reins.

"With haste, Sumia!" she commanded and her pegasus leapt into the air. The village came into view now and Cynthia could see a few houses in the small fishing town were alight, and its inhabitants were scrambling below from black shapes. She swooped down and her Pegasus' hooves dug into the sand. The Plegians gave her slight awestricken glances but didn't stop to stare as they seemed too busy running for their lives. And now that Cynthia was firmly on the ground, she could see what they were running from. Familiar shapes of men stumbling about in various states of decay, their glowing red eyes peering through their awful masks and black smoke spewing from their mouths.

"_Risen!?"_ How could they have followed her to the past? She did not dwell on it long however, as the Risen had taken notice of her and rushed forward. She took a deep breath in, '_Alright, twenty Risen against one. Nothing that a hero can't handle!'_

She steadied herself as the first one approached, its axe swung above its head but Cynthia's Pegasus lunged forward and she skewered the risen's head with her lance. Her Pegasus then rebounded back as the next then came but before it could even raise its weapon Cynthia slashed her lance across its neck.

She then commanded her Pegasus up into the air just as the other Risen got within reach. She arched around, the wings of her Pegasus gliding effortlessly through the air, and swooped down to drive her lance into the chest of another risen; her momentum dragged its dissolving body with her as she came back up into the air.

She continued this motion of flying high above their reach and swooping down to strike at them, luckily for her they were leaderless, and therefore uncoordinated in their attack. Then finally she killed the very last of the Risen and watched with satisfaction as it faded into a cloud of purple smoke, "Ha, too easy!" she said as she ran a hand through her blue hair.

As Cynthia dusted herself off she suddenly felt as if a hundred eyes were watching. She turned her head to see the villagers all standing in a big group, staring at her with awestruck faces. '_Alright, this is my time, I need to say something heroic!'_

"Fear not, O people of Plegia!" she called out in her "Hero" voice she practiced so many times, "The Risen are defeated, and I have saved you from peril!" To added effect, her pegasus then reared up onto its hind legs as Cynthia waved her lance in the air. "Nice going, Sumia, that made me look REALLY cool!" she whispered to her pegasus.

She beamed at them, expected them to burst into a chorus of cheers and applause, but to her dismay all she received was blank stares. '_Aww, I blew it! I knew I should have thought of something before.' _

But then one of the Plegians approached her, he stopped a few paces away, as he seemed to be wary of her Pegasus. He then began speaking in a strange language that Cynthia knew for certain was not Plegian, and then she was hit with the sudden realization that these people didn't very much look like Plegians at all really. Their style of clothing was different, and their skin was far darker than most when Plegians were known to have a light complexion. The man started speaking to her again, pointing to her and her pegasus, then pointing back behind him. But she hadn't a clue what he was trying to tell her.

"Um, you wouldn't happen to know the….common tongue, would you?" she said. The man's eyebrows drew together in confusion. He looked back to the group, which had since gotten larger. He then gestured for her to stay put as he then went back to the others, most likely to discuss about herself. After a short moment the man approached her again and motioned for her to follow.

* * *

Cynthia curled up under her blanket in the cold desert night. The small fire that burned in the hearth provided some warmth, but not quite enough apparently. Though she still preferred this over the blistering heat of the daytime sun. Luckily for her she did not have to do much while it was out, as the rest of the day proved to be quite uneventful. After she beat the Risen the villagers had offered her fresh fish, bread, and water, which she accepted gratefully, it was perhaps the best food she'd ever eaten. Then afterwards she simply sat in the shade of palm trees either tending to her Pegasus or doing nothing at all. There wasn't much to do anyways as the sun was far too relentless.

In any other circumstance she would have simply left as soon as she could, however these lands were foreign to her and asking the locals for directions seemed impossible since she couldn't understand a word they said, nor could they understand her. So for now she'd stay right where she is. The villagers themselves still regarded her with trepidation, though they were still hospitable enough.

So now she found herself in the humble abode of an elderly woman who graciously offered Cynthia accommodations in her small two room house. She lived alone, but she seemed more welcoming than the others, as she accepted Cynthia into her home with a warm smile on her face. She provided her with water, a bit more food before bed, sheets, and a mattress stuffed with palm leaves. Her Pegasus stood outside the house but Cynthia was able to keep a watch on her through a window on the far wall. She sighed contentedly, all seemed to be well and soon enough she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning she was forcibly woken up by the old woman. She seemed to be in a panic, speaking in a frantic voice and pointing outside the door.

"What!? Is it more Risen!?" she asked, uselessly she realized as the woman couldn't answer that question anyway. The woman then rushed outside leaving Cynthia alone to herself. But she wasted no time, she pulled on her boots, gloves, and then began strapping on her armour, albeit with some difficulty, "Gah! I should have just slept in this darn thing!" She mused aloud. At last the final straps were in place and she was now ready for battle. She grabbed her lance and confidently marched out the door only to stop dead in her tracks once she saw what awaited her.

There was no Risen. Instead there was a large company of men on horseback that surrounded the house. They were dressed in flowing scarlet robes with chainmail coats overtop and were armed to the teeth with bows, lances, and swords. Some carried banners of a black serpent upon a red field, dissimilar to any Grimleal standard which is what Plegians should be flying. Above all else, they did not look friendly; their bearded faces watched her with grim expressions.

She swallowed hard, she could feel her very heart pounding in her ears as she gripped to lance tightly. There was no way she could take them all on, and she saw many archers in their ranks, so fleeing didn't seem likely either. The possibilities of what could happen next swirled through her mind. Were they going to execute her? Or perhaps take her captive?

The whinnying of her pegasus then drew her attention and Cynthia looked to see some men had grabbed it by the reins and were trying to pull her away. Cynthia immediately surged with anger, "Hey! Stay away from her!" she roared as she rushed for them. A hard smack to the torso from the pommel of Cynthia's lance sent one staggering back and she twirled and smacked the other across his head. The soldiers drew back and unsheathed their scimitars, and the rest of the soldiers followed suit. Archers fitted their arrows to the string, horsemen readied their lances. Cynthia, now seeing just how many soldiers she was up against, felt her courage waning with every moment that passed.

Tensions ceased however as another rider came trotting in, followed in tow by some of the villagers. He shouted into the air and his men eased back; archers put away their arrows, and swordsmen sheathed their scimitars. The newcomer's armour seemed much more extravagant than the others; while they all wore scarlet and black he was adorned in gold and silver. The leader of them, no doubt.

The old woman, the man from yesterday, and some of the other villagers each spoke hurriedly to the leader, some gestured towards her as they did. The leader nodded along, but seemed to be getting more irritated as time went on. He raised an open hand to the air and all the voices stopped. Finally his attention was directly on her, and Cynthia felt herself shrink underneath his gaze.

"They say that you defeated a horde of demons single handedly yesterday," came his thickly accented voice.

Cynthia's eyebrows shot up "Woah! You speak my language!" She said, surprised, and somewhat relieved.

"I have spent many years of my life in Harondor, as both a warrior and an emissary to the men of Gondor." She had no clue what he was talking about, but she was relieved to finally have someone she could communicate with. Though she wouldn't say this was the best person to fit that role, she would have preferred maybe someone more ….welcoming.

"Now, is there merit to what the village people say of you?" he asked.

"Oh, the Risen? That was nothing, a warm up really. I've faced way more than that and have come out victorious." she boasted.

"Indeed? And who are, that can so easily slay demons that are stronger and faster than any man under the sun? By the dozens no less."

"My name is Cynthia," she said with newly found confidence, "And I'm a Pegasus knight that hails from the future!" She drove the end of her lance into the sand and stood with her free hand placed on her hip and chest puffed out, mimicking how a bold and fearless hero would stand in her mind.

The leader glared at her, "The _future_?" he scoffed, "Do not jest with me now, girl, it is unwise. I am Lord Khâzakil of Umbar, and you are a trespasser in our lands. I could have your head for that alone if I so wish, or perhaps take you as a slave for the Black Tower. Or I can choose to show you mercy, but you must answer me truthfully. Is that plain to you?"

She gulped hard, her hand dropping to her side and her shoulders shrugged a bit forward. She wanted to protest, but she thought better of it, "It is, mi'lord."

"Good. Now speak-_truthfully_-of where you have come."

"The Halidom of Ylisse, mi'lord."

He was silent for a moment as he looked over at her, "I do not know of this land" he then said, "Do you ally yourselves with the filth of Gondor?"

Cynthia's eyes widened and she could feel a great pit forming in her stomach. "Wha-I….huh?" was all she could stammer out. "How do you not know of Ylisse...it should be east of here…right?" she mumbled.

'You are wrong!" he said, "There are no lands eastwards with that name, and the people of those lands do not look anything like you do."

Her grip on her lance tightened as she wondered how it was possible for a Plegian Lord to not know of their greatest adversary, and then it finally dawned on her; this was not Plegia, and these were not Plegians. But then where exactly was she?

"I will ask once more, are you an ally to Gondor?" he asked sternly.

"I'm afraid I've never heard of Gondor, mi'lord…"

His stern eyes narrowed, "Impossible!" he cried, "You must have at least passed it when you came here, and you speak their language!" He was making great points, she would admit, but she was just as confused as he was on this matter.

"It's because I come from…" she stopped for a moment to think. If this wasn't Plegia, and she knew that Valm didn't have a desert people, nor any realm called 'Gondor', then the only answer was that she'd somehow arrived on one of the other continents that were largely unexplored, but scholars knew of their existence nonetheless.

There of course was another possibility, one that she didn't really want to think about, but the likelihood of it being true grew steadily in her mind.

She looked towards the great sea that expanded far past the horizon. "I'm from lands out there," she finally said with her finger pointed at the ocean. The Lord turned his gaze toward the ocean, and Cynthia could see his face fill with wonder.

He turned back towards her, "Indeed, I believe you." he said and Cynthia flooded with relief. "It would explain your blue hair, and that flying horse you have."

"She's not a horse, she's a Pegasus." Cynthia corrected.

"Whatever name there is for that beast, it's kind is not known to any in these lands." he said.

"I have many questions for you, Cynthia of Ylisse, though I do not wish to discuss them under the heat of the sun. Ride with us back to our camp, and do not fear for your safety, for you are now under my protection. But if you flee," his face then grew serious as he leaned in to speak to her, "You _will_ die! Do we have an accord?"

Cynthia nodded in understanding. She felt in that moment like her heart would burst from her chest from how fast it was beating. But she had little choice, it seemed; follow or die. Harsh rules for a harsh Lord.

The Lord turned back to his people and gave a speech to them, likely a summary of their conversation as she saw their collective faces filled with wonder, and many of them looking out towards the sea.

She then noticed someone else in the crowd of horsemen that didn't seem to be paying attention to the leader. A man off to the side. He sat tall in his saddle, far taller than the others. He wore a coat of mail with a black tabard overtop, and upon it was the outline of a red eye sewn onto the front. A hood of mail covered his head and face, and upon his head sat a domed metal helm with two metal pieces in the shape of fish fins jutting out from either side. Nothing could be seen but his eyes that stalked her emotionlessly, and Cynthia felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

"Girl!" shouted the leader. Cynthia jumped a little at the sudden noise. "We ride at once, you will stay with me at the forefront, and keep on the ground." he said.

"Yes, mi'lord." she replied. She took a breath in and out silently to try and calm herself as the company moved. She mounted her Pegasus and started her forward towards the front of the column. She spared a look towards the village people, who watched her with blank expressions. Except for the old woman, who gave a sort of pitied smile and she waved slightly at her. Cynthia pursed her lips and waved back, and then finally rode off with the company far into the desert sands.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: **Greenwood the Great.**

**Nah, one month before Lucina's arrival.**

Nah's head was spinning. She raised her hand to her head and idly massaged her temples. With reluctance, she opened her eyes, grimacing against the brightness that filled her vision. The first thing she noticed, other than that she was laying down on her back, was the canopies of tall trees rising high into the air. The bright sun glittered through their green leaves and she could hear the soft rustling of the leaves in the wind. Birds sang into the air, and she could hear a flowing stream nearby.

She sat up, her eyes scanning all around the thick and green forest that surrounded her, the density of which she was wholly unused to. The future could never bear much nature with Grima's taint choking the very soil of the world, and only the hardiest of trees remained. She should have felt at ease by the greenery but instead she felt constricted. If the forest wasn't worrying enough, she also had to deal with the fact that none of her friends appeared to be anywhere in sight.

"Hello?" she called out, "Guys? Are you there?" No reply came.

She rose up to her feet and cupped her hands together, "Hellooo!" she called again, "Lucina, Owain, anyone?" once again, nothing. She shut her eyes and focused inwards.

'_Can you hear me, Naga? Sorry for being so informal, but it's kind of an emergency!'_ She waited for a moment, but only nature responded.

Nah heaved a deep sigh, it seemed that she was truly alone, again. Not that she wasn't used to it, but it would have been nice to have at least someone around. Though she recalled Lucina warning them about this very thing happening. Nah looked about her, once again frowning at the tightness of the forest. Her first order of business was to escape the confines of the vegetation, and only then could she worry about finding another soul.

She began to navigate the dense forest, sticking to following the nearby river upstream. The stream was rather narrow, perhaps only seven feet wide, and in itself fairly shallow. Large stones peeked out from the bottom of the water, close enough together that Nah was able to playfully hop between them as she passed.

An hour went as Nah walked along the riverbed, yet the thickness of the foliage had not let up. She could of course simply turn into her dragon form and fly high above the trees, but Nah decided to face the underbrush on foot. She had long gotten used to it by now, and found the glimmering greenery to be quite relaxing. The trees provided a reliving respite from the sun, and the gentle breeze that wafted through the leaves did not add any chill. Natural sounds of animals and insects added to a most soothing ambience. it was overall a pleasant experience. The best part about it though, was that there wasn't the awful feeling of Grima's taint that seemed ever present in the future. And it was that very same lack of taint that she was able to tell that this was indeed the past.

Another thirty or so minutes of walking and Nah decided it was time for a rest. She stepped away from the river and traveled a bit inland. Surprisingly, she found a small clearing in the forest and situated in the centre was a towering tree rising far above the others, it's sprawling branches were able to cover the entirety of the clearing, blanketing the ground with shade. The short grass that lay underneath made this quite an alluring resting spot for Nah.

She sat down against the wide trunk with her legs stretched out, just simply basking in the surrounding calmness. It felt nice not having to worry about Risen ambushes for once, though she wished she had someone here to share it with.

Time went on as Nah sat and enjoyed the sights and sound of nature; the calming tones of green, the birds singing sweet lullabies in the air, and the comfortable breeze that rustled the leaves. It was so soothing to her that she was suddenly finding it quite hard to keep her eyes open, but she welcomed it, a nap was exactly what she needed right now. She got comfortable against the tree, finally finding a position where the thick roots didn't dig into her back. She shut her eyes and waited until at last she slipped into a peaceful sleep.

Nah felt she had only slept for a few minutes when she jolted awake. The sky was no longer bright and blue as the sun was beginning to set. She stood up and brushed herself off, picking fallen leaves from her green hair. She would have to find somewhere safer for a shelter, perhaps start a fire soon. With the sun setting, she knew her travels were done for today.

Nah searched around for shelter, the tree was a decent resting place, though too exposed for her liking. The ground was sloping, but no large hills or caves seemed to be nearby, so finding respite in a cavern was out of the question. Perhaps maybe then the branches above? She shook her head, she needed the warmth of a fire, and none could be lit in a tree.

"I'll just stay put," she said, finally coming to a decision.

Firewood was easy to find enough, as dried branches were abundant in the underbrush around the clearing. Now came the arduous task of actually lighting it. From her traveling bag she produced a flint and steel. Lucina had given it to her, just in case, which proved handy now. She struck the stone a few times, seeing sparks fly but no flame. She tried again but had little fortune.

Nah gave an annoyed huff as she struck the stone again and again until she all but tossed the stone aside in her frustration. She'd seen Lucina light a fire hundreds of times, so how could it be so difficult? She gave a deep sigh and rose to search for the discarded flint.

She heard a sound, a snapping of a twig in the underbrush. Nah froze, and her hairs stood on end. Was it a harmless deer, a wolf maybe? She didn't know, but her most primal instincts were telling her something was amiss, danger had to be near.

She smelled it first. A horrible, rotten scent that made her crinkle up her face in disgust and she plugged her nose tightly, '_Eugh! What is that STENCH!?' _Then, she heard it, the heavy ruffling from a rather sizable creature scurrying amongst the thick underbrush. Low growling and an almost guttural coughing sound that could not come from any animal rang out into the air. Nah swung on her heel to better face the direction of the danger. Her dragon stone was ready in her hand. The bushes parted for a moment and Nah could see light glint off two gleaming and bulbous eyes. Whatever creature was there, it's sights were directly on her.

"Be brave, Nah, be brave," she told herself, but that did little to ease her fear.

She fixed her wide eyed gaze on the bushes, and held tightly onto her dragon stone. Two slender and pale hands peeked out from the bushes, slowly parting its twigs and leaves. Her face curled in disgust as she saw what she could only describe as a gangling creature crawl out from the foliage. It was man shaped, but much smaller. It had pale skin and walked hunched on all fours, wearing only a simple brown loincloth. Big, blue eyes from its almost bald head stalked her.

"_Little Sheee-Elfss_," it spoke in a sing song voice.

The creature continued to approach, keeping it's eyes trained on her, but every so often it jerked its head towards the trees, as if he was watching for something she couldn't see. And as he got closer, his scent became more intense. It was laced with an intent for mischief, and the smallest hint of fear. She covered her nose tightly, trying ever so desperately to lessen the rancid odour on her sensitive nose.

"Why is it alone?" It continued, "Very dangerous here, very nassty things in the forest. Full of…" it paused and gave her a sidelong glance ".._.enemies_," the creature then produced another guttural retch from its throat that almost sounded like it was saying "Gollum, Gollum."

"Wh-what enemies?" The creature stayed silent as it slowly circled her, all the while having the creepiest grin she'd ever seen plastered on its face. She rose her dragon stone to the forefront, "If you don't tell me what these enemies are then I'll melt you with my breath!"

"It will see soon, precious, yes it will see!" The creature seemed to be almost excited at whatever he alluded to, but would say no more. It then bolted up the tall tree towards the very top and watched the horizon like a stalwart sentinel.

She had to leave, now. If not for whatever enemies it spoke about, then just to get away from this disturbing little creature. She took two small steps backwards, still watching the leaves of the tree where she knew the creatures lurked. Then another step, and another, until at last she stood with her back just before the outer ring of trees. With a deep breath she swung herself around and - "Eek!"

Nah yelped and stumbled backwards as she came face to face with an arrow drawn directly at her head. Then more seemed to appear from nowhere, all pointed at her, strung in large bows and held by tall beings that surrounded her.

Her eyes then drifted from their pointed arrows to their faces and Nah could do nothing but stare in awe. They were possibly the most beautiful people she'd ever seen. They each had long flowing hair of brown or red, which flowed down onto their cloaks like silk. Their skin, free of any mark or blemish, had an almost glow to it that made Nah stare in wonder. Their tall and slender forms seemed elegant, yet strong. Their lovely scents bore no trace of ill intentions, and she knew then that those arrows would never leave their strings, they would not harm her. As she scanned their fair faces a most striking feature made itself clear to her: They all had pointed ears.

'_Are these...Manaketes?'_ she wondered. It was a possibility, this was the past after all. There most certainly had to have been a few roaming about before Grima. Though their ears didn't have as much of a point as hers, and they carried simple weapons, no dragon stones in sight. Adding along the lack of green in their hair colours, Nah was not so sure that they were actually from her lost race.

But there was something about them, something...different. She couldn't quite say what it was, but she felt a sort of tingling feeling while in their presence, almost like magic. They also felt old, ancient even, and incredibly otherworldly.

It was then that another of these tall beings sauntered into the encirclement and all of the warriors relaxed their bows and stood at attention, quietly observing Nah with faint curiosity. The newcomer, much like the others, was fair and beautiful to behold. He had long golden blonde hair, and upon his brow sat a circlet of silver shaped in the manner of twisted vines. He smiled kindly at Nah.

"_Mae govannen!"_ he said.

Nah narrowed her brows at the foreign words. At first she thought she misheard him, but with his clear voice and Nah's sharp hearing that could not be the case. "Um, what?" she said, hoping dearly that he spoke her tongue.

The possible Manakete chuckled, "It is a greeting in our language. You may translate it as, 'Well met!'"

Nah breathed a short sigh, relieved to hear him speak her language, "Alright, well My-Go-Vonanan to you too, I guess." She probably just butchered that, as she could tell from the light chuckles from the group. Though she had no clue what language he was speaking.

Her brightening mood was interrupted when the branches of the tall tree above her began to shake, creaking and cracking as if from a strong wind. A reminder of the ill creature that stalked from above. And how could she forget the odour. The blonde one must have noticed her sudden warriness, as he then stepped over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Fret not, young one," he spoke, "the creature Gollum will not hurt you while we are here."

"You know him?" she asked, but kept her gaze steady towards the treetops. The reassuring presence of everyone else made her certainly feel a lot safer, but Nah was no fool to think she was completely free from harm. The creature gollum stared down at them, his face scrunching up into a hateful visage and he quietly hissed as a rabid feline would.

"Indeed," said the blonde one, "He is our prisoner."

"Prisoner?" she questioned, eyeing the creature with a puzzled look. She didn't see any shackles or chains on him, and he seemed to be allowed to roam on his own accord, "If he is your prisoner then why isn't he, you know, in prison?"

The blonde one gazed towards the treetops with a look that was half pity and half disgust.

"He is a pitiful creature, really," he began, "And it was by instruction of one who is wiser than us that Gollum be shown tenderness and mercy, for his previous captors were not so. He believed that it was not by Gollum's own accord that he became the retch he is today, for a powerful evil had long corrupted his heart, of which we cannot say for certainty. But if we shackle him, and keep him locked behind gates of iron, then never can he heal from that which had ensnared him for so long."

Nah nodded in understanding. That Gollum creature, which had quite a fitting name, did seem rather pitiful. She could see Gollum's gaze was fixed beyond the treetops, searching far into the horizon. His scent seemed to change, and she could sense his worry, fear, anxiety, and sadness even. Though that all seemed to shift into vile hatred and bitterness as Gollum looked back down at them.

"We hates them, hates them!" he hissed under his breath, but Nah heard him clear as day. Whatever pity she had was quickly dispelling. This was clearly a creature brimming with malice and hatred, and she would be a fool to even try and see him as anything else.

The blonde one then spoke again "I must ask you, what exactly are you doing here alone in this forest?"

"Well, it's actually quite an interesting story because...I don't really know."

He laughed, "You are lost then?"

"I think so."

"And where is it you were trying to reach?" he asked.

"To my home in Ylisse."

The blonde one furrowed his brows as he turned to the others, conversing in this strange, yet enchanting language. The conversation ceased and he looked back towards her, "Forgive us, young one, we do not know that land."

Nah felt a pit forming in her stomach, she didn't know much about Ylisse, but she knew that it was a land known throughout the whole continent, and even the entirety of Valm. That could only mean she had arrived on an entirely different continent, alone, and far away from all her friends.

The blonde one bent down to be almost eye level with her, and he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Do not fret," he said, "Perhaps your land lies where we go not, in the world of men. For there are many realms they hold that we have little knowledge of. Seldom do we travel beyond the forest borders, only in times of great need." He gave her shoulder a little pat then rose to his full height. Her home It was indeed ruled by mankind, so she guessed it was indeed possible that they were just an ignorant bunch.

"So, um… are you guys Manaketes?" she asked hopefully.

The blonde one quirked an eyebrow, "Manaketes?" he asked, seemingly confused, "I do not believe so. We are Elves, young one, Elves of Mirkwood. And this is Mirkwood, if that was not clear enough."

Nah instantly deflated, so they weren't her kin after all. Nah would have liked to connect with her lost heritage, one that she didn't know much about save for legends and rumours, but it seemed she'd have to wait until she found her mother. A more pressing matter were these 'Elves,' as they called themselves. Nah had simply never heard of them. They were not taguel, they were not manaketes, and they were certainly not of the races of men. Had she just rediscovered a people long forgotten by the world?

But the Elves seemed more curious about her, she could hear their whispers in their strange yet enchanting language, their keen eyes observing her.

"You yourself are a Manakete, is that right?" asked the blonde elf.

"Yes...well only half. My father was a man and my mother was a full Manakete."

The Elves now seemed even more interested, their whispers turning into quiet discussions. "How interesting, I do not believe I have ever met a Manakete before, nor have I ever heard of your race," the blonde elf said.

"Well, I haven't heard of Elves either."

"Well then!" he said with a smile forming on his face, "We must introduce ourselves, I think. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil. And what is your name?"

"Nah," she replied.

Legolas frowned, "If I have offended you then I do apologize, but please tell me at least your name-"

"–No, Nah _is_ my name!"

"...Ah," he said after an awkward pause, "I see."

He cleared his throat to try and rid some of the awkwardness from the air, and finally he seemed to compose himself. He straightened out his posture and raised a hand up high as if to address a formal gathering. Then in his soft voice he spoke, "Let this then be the first meeting of Elves and Manaketes. On behalf of the Elven King: _Len suilon, nathlo na Taur-nu-Fuin!_ I greet you, and welcome you to the Woodland Realm!" He crossed his arm over his chest and bowed forward, the other elves following suit.

Nah replied with a curtsey, "It is a pleasure to be in your acquaintance."

"Shall we commemorate this occasion with food?" he asked cheerfully.

Almost on cue, her stomach began to audibly growl. Nah gave only a sheepish smile, "I guess I'm a little hungry," she said. A lie, she was absolutely famished.

The elves laughed and Legolas gestured for her to follow, "Come then, we have plenty for you to eat."

He turned towards the elves and said in a clear voice, "_Nartho i noer! Boe i annam vann a nethal vin!" _ A chorus of agreeing voices rang out and the elves prepared to leave.

She walked with Legolas and a few others, as there had to remain some to guard Gollum. They led her away from the clearing, travelling for perhaps half an hour, and stopped when they reached an area beside a flowing stream. The sun passed into the evening now, and the forest grew darker, but she could still see plenty with her heightened nighttime vision.

"I am sure this is far enough," said Legolas. Nah sniffed the air, still smelling the faintest hint of that creature, though it could be easily ignored. The Elves began to unravel their packs. Others began the task of finding fuel for a fire and soon enough the group sat around a cheerful blaze. An Elf came around to her with a cloth full of some foodstuffs.

"If we were back in the halls of the Elvenking we could have hosted you with more pleasant fare," the elf said regrettably.

Nah took the cloth from him and set it about her lap. She saw soft and exquisite looking bread, berries, and other fruits. She smiled, "This is way better than anything I've eaten for a long time now, thank you," she said with a bow of her head. As she took the first sheepish bite of the bread, her eyes grew wide.

"This, what is _this_?" she said, amazed.

Legolas laughed, "It is just a simple loaf."

Nah inspected it in her hand, "Really?" she said. She'd eaten bread thousands of times, she'd even tried some made by the royal bakers in Ylisstol, but all those loaves paled in comparison to the pure deliciousness of this elvish bread. She reached for some of the fruits, and popped a few berries in her mouth. She closed her eyes in bliss as she tasted a sweetness far superior than any wild berries in all of Ylisse. A gourd of water was also given to her, and the water contained within was somehow even better than a fresh mountain stream.

"What can you tell us about Manaketes, by the way?" Legolas suddenly asked, pulling her from her trance.

Nah made sure to swallow her food before speaking, "Well, the first thing I should say is that we are a race of dragons who can shift into mannish forms."

There was a light chuckle amongst the Elves at her response.

"A race of Dragons you say?" Legolas said in a tone that suggested he didn't very much believe her at all.

"You don't believe me?"

"We know dragons quite well, and we have never known any to be young maidens with green hair," said Legolas

"Well, it's true!" she said.

"My dear, dragons are creatures of evil, and you are not so. They certainly do not shift forms as you say."

"My lord, perhaps she can change forms akin to Beorn?" said an elf.

"Yes, but Beorn and his descendants change into great bears, not dragons," another elf chimed in.

"Perhaps she can shift into a great lizard that others have remarked looked like dragons? After all, many creatures there are of this world that we do not know," speculated another.

They continued to discuss the possibilities amongst themselves, shifting now to their own language.

"Everyone, please! How about I just show you?" Nah suggested, earning the undivided attention of the group.

"As you wish, we are eager to see," said Legolas, "For we indeed have noticed something strange about you, young Nah. Your spirit tells of a power that is..unknown to this world. We felt it when we first saw you."

Choosing to ignore whatever he meant by that, Nah stood up, "Alright then, watch carefully, I'm only going to do this once!" She stepped a great many paces back so she had enough room, lest she knock over any trees. She then displayed the dragon stone towards them and was about to begin drawing power from it.

Suddenly, a chilling wind blew from the north, rustling the leaves of the trees and stringing her locks across her face, but along with it came a scent that made her falter a bit. First off, the smell was horrible, absolutely rancid, and far worse than that Gollum creature. But it was also so overbearingly evil that she was shaken to her very core, and she felt it in her heart a powerful murderous intent.

"Uugh, do any of you smell that?" She wanted to vomit from such an overbearing odour. Legolas curiously sniffed the air and his eyes became wide. Suddenly, an arrow came ripping through the air and struck a tree right beside his head.

"Orcs!" he shouted, but the other elves were already alert; they fitted arrows to their strings and loosed volleys faster than Nah could keep up with. She could hear the squeals of whatever they seemed to hit that was in the bushes. Legolas pulled her back and two more elves stood at either side of her, shooting arrows from their tall bows.

Finally their assailants made themselves known, ripping through bushes with beastly war cries and brutal weapons in hand. Nah grimaced at the very sight of them. They were unnerving creatures that lolloped across the ground, biting and snarling as they came. Their skin was an unpleasant green and their big yellow eyes showed their beastly nature. They were not Risen, she could tell, as their bodies did not disintegrate when they fell.

The Elves clashed with them, producing swords with glowing blue blades from underneath their cloaks. Nah watched in silent amazement as the Elves unleashed their masterful swordsmanship on their enemy. Which to Nah's eyes, looked more like a dance than anything else, their swords humming through the air with speed and precision that would put Lucina to shame. And that Legolas, his archery was the greatest she'd ever seen. Each arrow that loosed from his bow found its mark in Orc necks, and he shot one, sometimes two or three at a time, never missing.

These 'Orcs' were no match for them. They were each only a little taller than Nah herself and their skill with whatever weapons they carried was laughable at best, The Elves cut through them like carving a cake. Though what the orcs lacked in skill they made up for in numbers, it seemed, as an endless stream of these creatures appeared from the deep woods.

All of a sudden Nah sensed a much greater intent for murder from behind her, along with a rancid odour. But she could not react in time when a few of those orc creatures leapt from behind the trees and assaulted the two elves guarding her. One then came and grabbed a hold of her leg, dragging her to the forest. Nah shrieked as her dragon stone flung from her hands and she could do nothing but claw at the ground.

It stopped and climbed on top of her, pinning her to the ground. It roared ferociously in her face, raising a dagger into the air. Though that was all it could do before an arrow promptly pierced it's skull, and Nah was able to tear herself from it's now loosened grip. She scampered back on the ground and into the arms of an Elf, holding tightly onto his cloak. Her heart felt like it could burst from her chest, and she could not stop the tears from flowing from her eyes.

"_Av'osto,_ _nettë_ _na-__îdh__, av'osto,"_ the Elf repeated softly to her. The voice, like silk, was far more feminine than the others, and higher pitched. When finally she processed his words, though foreign, she for some reason felt the fear in her heart replaced with calming tranquility.

She looked up at the Elf, finally realizing that "he" was actually a "she". The red haired elf maiden smiled warmly at her and helped her to her feet.

Nah wiped her tears from her eyes and looked around her, seeing only the concerned faces of the elves. The orcs were gone, their fallen bodies staining the forest floor, yet the Elves had amazingly not taken a single casualty.

Legolas approached her, "Are you unhurt?"

"Y-yeah," she replied, still a bit unnerved, "What were those things? They smelled horrible, and felt incredibly evil."

"They are Orcs," he said, disgust and hatred clear in his voice, "These are only but a taste of the dangers that awaited you deep in the forests of Mirkwood. Though it is strange for them to be so close to our borders. Alas, the shadow of Dol Guldur has grown much in these days."

"Well, it's a good thing you guys found me then, huh?"

"Indeed it was," he said as he seemed to notice something on the ground, "Ah, you have dropped your jewel." He went to pick it up but as soon as his fingers brushed against it, his hand suddenly jerked back as if he touched a still hot pan.

"There is a strange power in this stone." He said almost faintly.

Nah went over and picked it up herself, "Oh that's my dragon stone, this is how I can turn into a dragon."

He stared at her with a look she couldn't quite read, he seemed wary, but intrigued at the same time. "Dragon stone," he muttered, testing the words on his own lips.

He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the beastly cries of orcs could be heard in the distance, moving away from the company. He turned back towards his elves, "_Tolo hi!"_ he shouted to them and they all began racing off into the trees.

"Come, Nah! We must hurry!" Nah nodded and set off with them. They ran through the trees, and Nah was finding it quite hard to keep up.

'_I should just switch to my dragon form,'_ she thought.

Finally they reached the clearing and the Elves all gasped in horror. The three elves that watched smeagol were slain, the creature nowhere to be seen. There seemed to be only a few bodies of orcs that surrounded them, but a great many weapons were discarded all around, far more than the bodies that were seen present.

They stood before their fallen brethren in silence. They did not weep, but Nah could see a sadness in their eyes greater than any tears could show.

Pulling her eyes away from the heart wrenching scene, Nah noticed a shield that lay close to a fallen orc. It was painted dark blue, though was clearly in an abysmal state, the wood was chipped and scratched, and almost cleaved in two down the centre. As she looked at it she felt a sense of familiarity, a white crest was painted on it's centre that looked remarkably like the crest of the Ylissean royal house.

Nah narrowed her eyes, it was definitely the crest. Though what was it doing here and who could have carried it? Certainly orcs did not themselves steal it, that would mean they were a foe known to Ylisse. But she'd never heard of them.

Then Nah felt it in her heart, and she stumbled onto her knees. A familiar dread coursed through her veins, and a sensation she felt for so many years washed over her; the taint of Grima was heavy in the air. The elves sensed it too; arrows were fitted to the strings and they scanned the dark underbrush. Inhuman moans echoed through the forest, seeming to originate from behind her and Nah swung around to finally see what she'd been dreading all this time.

Red eyes, purple smoke, black forms. She saw them shuffling through the trees towards them. Some garbed in simple leather armour, others in the uniform of Ylissean men at arms. Spears, axes, and swords, they held them strong in their hands. One of the Risen was dragging the corpse of a slain elf by his hair.

Nah furrowed her brows, none of this made any sense, this was the past, there wasn't supposed to be any Risen in the past. Nah's eyes widened as she considered the possibility that they could have followed through the gate. Then that meant they were appearing around the world at random just as her and her friends. But here and now there were more than twenty Risen gathered before them, Nah stood at the forefront and the elves behind her.

Nostrils flaring, her fists were clenched at her side, a hot white anger curled insider her, like a blazing inferno that sought to burn her from the inside.

The elves were immediately up and ready, arrows flew from their bows, striking the risen all across their bodies. The force of which jerked their bodies back, but they kept moving forward seemingly unfazed.

Shouts of confusion rang from the elves and they drew their swords, their blades no longer emitting a pale blue glow. An elf tried to pull her away but Nah ripped free from his grasp.

"Everyone stay back!" she roared, "I'll deal with them!" She heard Legolas protesting her command, but she ignored him.

With her dragon stone firm in her hands, Nah raised it to the sky. The stone glowed bright green as Nah channeled it's power into her, feeling it course through her veins. All she heard next was a collective gasp from the elves as a bright light consumed her, changing her form. The light dimmed and shattered like glass and out appeared Nah as a tall red dragon, strong and elegant in form. A great ferocious roar echoed from her mouth and for a moment, the Risen stopped in their tracks.

She gathered a great magical fire into her maw, but decided against it, as fire in a forest was not the best of ideas. Instead she lunged forward, her sharp claws tearing the Risen into clouds of smoke and ash. Her tail lashed out, swiping away any that tried to get around her.

Blades bounced uselessly off her hard scales, and no Risen was spared from her vicious rage as she tore them apart bit by bit until the last of them was ripped into a fading cloud of smoke. One more mighty roar bellowed from Nah's mouth, echoing into the forest. It served well to release the last bit of anger that still lingered in her, and now Nah was able to release her dragon form as she transformed back into her regular self.

Nah observed the damage, panting hard from exertion. Toppled trunks of trees lay scattered about, the earth underneath them ripped up and giant claw marks marred the ground. Nah let out a sheepish laugh; she tended to be a bit destructive while in her dragon form, she couldn't seem to help it. Especially when she was all worked up like that. She was just happy she had enough sense to not set the whole forest ablaze.

She looked back towards the Elves and all she could see was their shocked and wide eyed faces as they stared at her. Then, as swift as the wind, they knocked arrows into their bows and drew them back, all pointed directly at her.

Nah froze, "U-um, did I do something wrong?"

"Enwenno hîn!" Legolas shouted, and suddenly Nah felt her dragon stone be ripped from her hands.

"Hey! Give that back!" She tried to reach for it but two more elves grabbed her by the arms, holding her back.

"What's the meaning of this!?" she protested, struggling against their grips, "Unhand me!"

Legolas came in her view and he stared back down at her, his face emotionless, "Forgive me, Nah. Now that we have seen your power, we must take precautions,"

"Precautions? Why? All I did was use my dragon form against the Risen! I wasn't going to then attack you, I swear!"

"Dragons were born of corruption from an enemy long forgotten by the world," he said, "We have to know that you are not a threat to our realm, and the Elvenking will be the one to decide that. For he has seen dragon fire many times in ages past."

"But I would never use my dragon form against you guys! It was only for the Risen!" she pleaded, but Legolas ignored her, walking away and spouting orders to the other elves.

Nah could only scowl at him as she felt a bond being quickly tied around her hands, and she was shuffled away into the forest.


End file.
